Scourge of the Super-saurs
by C. L. Werner
Summary: Dr. Shinji Mafune unleashes his monstrous creations to destroy the worldwide holdings of MARS - and he doesn't care who gets in his way. Can Godzilla stop the carnage before all the world's great cities are destroyed? Complete at last! Read the epic!
1. Prologue

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Prologue

A hot breeze played across the veranda of the old plantation house, evoking a discordant clatter from dozens of wind chimes. The old structure, built in the days of pirates and slavers, was the only building standing on the small island off the coast of Costa Rica. The rest of the island was given over to lush tropical growth, its white sandy beaches devoid of the sunbathers that covered the shores of the Caribbean. The man who owned the island had no desire to make a living from the tourist trade. Indeed, he had very little desire to remain among the living.

The old man emerged from the house and leaned against the railing, letting his gaze linger on the dancing waters of the sea. He was Japanese, his face wizened, withered by despair rather than hardship. His hair was shock white, an unkempt mass atop his head. A thick, bushy moustache covered the old man's upper lip while pearl-rimmed glasses covered his dark eyes. A slight smile flickered on the figure's face as he watched the waves crash against the island's beach. But it was only a faint moment of pleasure, banished as memory intruded upon his quiet interlude.

In another life, when the old man had not been quite so old, and youthful pride and ambition still held a place in his heart, the name of Shinji Mafune was not unknown to the world of science. Mafune had been one of the founders of biotechnology, one of the first men to unravel the secrets of manipulating DNA. His brilliant mind had brought him fame, the esteem of his colleagues, and prosperity. He was employed by an American genetic research company called BioMajor. For nearly a decade, Mafune put his genius to work for his employers, advancing the field of genetic manipulation by years with every month he spent in BioMajor's labs. Then, Dr. Shinji Mafune discovered just who he was really working for.

It was an accident, really, a memo sent to the wrong department. A careless, stupid mistake that destroyed Mafune's life. The memo was intended for the man in charge of BioMajor's research department. Instead it had come to Dr. Mafune. It was a simple thing, a few lines discussing military applications for Dr. Mafune's work. The memo originated from the desk of a man named Vander Van Hise. Mafune recalled the name. Days later, searching archived newspapers on microfilm at the New York public library, Mafune discovered why the name was familiar. Vander Van Hise was president of the U. S. branch of MARS, the notorious munitions manufacturer and developer. Horrified, the Japanese scientist resigned from his position at BioMajor.

Mafune had no intention of revealing what he had learned. To do so would have been dishonorable. But MARS was not going to take any chances. As far as they were concerned, there was only one way to ensure their secret ownership of BioMajor remained a secret. Through still another cruel twist of fate, Mafune survived the assassination attempt.

It should have been him, that cold November morning. On any other day it would have been. He always drove to the museum on Sundays. But on this day, his teenage daughter Katsura wanted to use the car to rendezvous with some friends from the college. Her father relented at last to her repeated pleas. He was only twenty feet away when Katsura started the car, waving at him from behind the glass. He was only twenty feet away when the vehicle exploded into a blossom of fire.

Tears streamed down Dr. Mafune's cheeks. The short, shriveled, ghoul-like figure of his ancient Japanese manservant pressed a saucer and teacup into his master's hands. Mafune wiped his face and smiled kindly at his servant. Then the recluse turned his eyes again to the sea and the distant horizon.

Many years had passed, but his pain had not dimmed. Only one thing had kept Mafune going during the long, bleak years. Someone was going to pay for Katsura's murder. That someone was the MARS corporation. It had taken the scientist decades to make his revenge possible. He had spent those years prostituting himself to anyone who would fund his research. He had developed better strains of coca plants for drug lords in Columbia and Argentina. He had created toxins and germs for the militaries of several nations. He had even created horrible mutants for the U. S. military during his time in Puerto Rico. All the many evils he had abhorred, Mafune embraced to fund his revenge.

Mafune looked again at the distant horizon. Soon, the world would hear from Dr. Shinji Mafune. Soon MARS would discover that when they killed his daughter, they sealed their doom.


	2. London

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part I:

London

Peter Speare walked slowly along the bank of the Thames. Fog shrouded the dim London night, the chill and the damp combining to force the late night pedestrian to pull his pea-coat a bit closer to his exposed neck. Speare knew that by all rights he should be back at home, warm and snug in bed. But he had had another row with his wife and was of the opinion that a stroll along the river would clear his mind. The fact that his path would cross several pubs had in no way affected Speare's decision. After all, he had passed by two of the four without entering them.

A tremendous splashing sound intruded upon Speare's surly and somewhat inebriated thoughts. The Londoner turned around, facing toward the foggy water. He could see a dark, indistinct shape, concealed within the gray mist. At first Speare's befuddled brain identified it as Tower Bridge, but no, the bridge was yet a hundred yards off to the left, its lightposts shinning through the fog. But what on earth could it be? It was too big to be anything but one of the bridge towers. Had a large cruise ship actually made its way this far down the Thames? Suddenly, the darkness within the fog began to move. A second later, a mighty sound, like a gurgling trumpet, shook the night.

Peter Speare fell to the ground, crawling away from the river as quickly as he could; his eyes as round as saucers. The shape within the fog was a little more distinct now, and it was a living shape. All at once, the years were stripped from Peter Speare. No longer was he a fifty-year old man, but once more a ten year old boy, watching in horror as a gigantic prehistoric obscenity rose from the river and laid waste to London. Peter Speare had survived the attack of Gorgo on London in 1961. He would again survive the destruction of the city, but his mind would never return. Peter Speare would forever after remain a ten-year old boy.

The monster was huge, standing over eighty meters tall; his almost eel-like head perched atop a long neck. The monster was some manner of reptile, a foul corruption of some prehistoric dinosaur. His warty skin was a dark green mottled with red, his plated underbelly a dark tan. A large red crest topped the monster's head, towering above his over-sized eyes and fanged mouth. The arms were long and powerful, much more so than those of a normal carnosaur. The beast's tail was almost as long as his body and toped with an enormous, fish-like fin. Titanosaurus stood immobile, his eyes staring stupidly at the sprawling city before him. There was no malice in the dinosaur as it looked on the brick and stone buildings, at the little twinkling lights. It heard the distant rumble as Big Ben, rebuilt after Gorgo's rampage, tolled the hour, and began to shy away from the shore, apprehensive of encountering whatever being had uttered such a terrible sound. 

Then, the monster's eyes narrowed, its entire demeanor changing, becoming menacing. A new urge filled Titanosaurus, an urge to destroy. The dinosaur swept its clawed hands in front of its body several times, anticipating the coming attack. Titanosaurus knew exactly where he must go and what he must do. Trumpeting once more, the towering monster emerged from the Thames and entered the sleeping capital of Great Britain.

Chairman Carmichael rubbed his eyes, unable to concentrate on the reports on the desk before him. For months now, MARS had been negotiating with Ugandan rebels to fund their uprising against the current government in Uganda. The fact that the rebels hoped to restore Idi Amin as dictator of Uganda had given MARS grave concerns. Idi Amin had been known for his reckless and impulsive behavior when he had run Uganda. It was entirely possible that he might not remember to pay MARS once he had settled into his former position.

Distant sounds caused Carmichael to rise from his desk and walk toward the massive window of his office in the Ares building, MARS' Old Street headquarters in London. The sounds appeared to be sirens and explosions, coming from the direction of the Thames and the Tower of London. The executive could see a dull red glow behind the fog, a sure sign that something was burning. The munitions manufacturer immediately began to calculate how much explosive would be needed to cause such damage. If he found out that the IRA was responsible, and getting their supplies from somebody else, there would be a number of openings in MARS' London office.

Titanosaurus tore through the line of warehouses, kicking the squat; ugly structures with his enormous clawed feet. Bricks and twisted steel flew in all directions. The giant dinosaur roared again, the sound overwhelming the cracking flames and the clanging sirens of the advancing fire brigade trucks. The dinosaur did not pay overmuch attention to the little trucks as they raced down side streets, trying to stop the fires left by the monster's advance. Titanosaurus did not notice the half-dressed mobs fleeing from him down those same side streets, crushing their fellows in their panicked attempt to flee the towering monster. A casual flick of his massive tail brought a distant tenement toppling into the street, burying dozens in a pile of brick and mortar. The screams of the dying were drowned out when their killer trumpeted again and continued to advance deeper into the city.

The centuries old Bank of England building was crushed beneath Titanosaurus' feet, its massive ornate columns rolling down Prince's Street. As if too punctuate the famous building's death, air raid sirens began to sound, announcing to all of London that the city was under attack. Not since the Blitz and Gorgo's rampage had the sirens roused Londoners from their beds. The warning only served to heighten the panic, as weary citizens peered out of windows to see a massive, prehistoric nightmare tearing through their ancient city. Soon, all of London seemed to be in the streets, racing for the imagined safety of bomb shelters and the open countryside. The streets were choked with a scrambling, struggling mass of humanity, making vehicle travel impossible. Hundreds were crushed beneath Titanosaurus' feet as the monster navigated his way deeper into the city.

Chairman Carmichael's mouth dropped open when he first saw the massive creature as Titanosaurus devastated the buildings on Chiswell Street. The MARS executive could not believe his eyes. Such a sight belonged in Tokyo or Osaka, not London. Carmichael watched in fascination as the monster continued to draw still closer. Ridiculous as it sounded, the monster seemed to be heading right for the Ares building. As Titanosaurus crushed both sides of Lamb's Pass, the ridiculousness of the situation was overwhelmed by the danger. Chairman Carmichael retreated from his office, scrambling for his private elevator and the bunker-like sub-basement of the Ares building.

Titanosaurus paused before the towering, glass-faced skyscraper. The monster could not, of course recognize the large silver letters which rose from the face of the building to spell MARS. All the same, Titanosaurus knew that this was his goal and he waited a moment as someone hundreds of miles away savored the moment. The moment passed, and Titanosaurus waved his claws before his body before leaping at the skyscraper. The gigantic scaly body crashed against the Ares building, shaking it with the force of an earthquake. Titanosaurus drew back from the damaged tower. The mammoth dinosaur bellowed and opened his mouth wide. Gill-like openings in the monster's throat began to suck in air at a tremendous rate. Titanosaurus' neck seemed to swell before the dinosaur released a jet of cyclonic fury. The hurricane-like gale blasted the upper stories of the Ares building, a crystal rain falling across London as the gale carried shards of glass far out into the night sky. Titanosaurus repeated the attack on the remaining levels of the skyscraper, blasting it repeatedly with his powerful cyclone breath. 

The urge to destroy left the dinosaur and Titanosaurus turned away from the gutted superstructure of the Ares building, naked steel girders standing bare in the night sky, like some ghastly urban skeleton. The dinosaur sauntered back toward the river, following his path of destruction back to the Thames. A few RAF fighters arrived as Titanosaurus was entering the river, launching their missiles as the dinosaur sank beneath the surface. It was the only token of defense the great city had brought against the monster. It was too little too late. In the morning, over twenty thousand people would be listed as dead or missing, four times that number would be counted among the injured.

* * * * *

'This report just came to us from Great Britain,' the young Japanese lieutenant saluted Dr. Otani. The scientist removed the sheets of paper from the soldier's hand and read them hastily.

'This is confirmed?' the project leader of Ogasawara asked the UNGCC soldier. The uniformed man nodded grimly.

'We have received a few images of the monster. The attack was so quick that only a few stills and one very poor quality thirty-second video recording are known to have been taken. Judging by the reports, there can be no doubt that it is some manner of kaiju.'

'Is it Gorgo?' inquired a young spectacle-wearing man. Kohei Yamane adjusted his glasses as he posed the question.

'No, at least not unless the monster has been severely mutated.'

'I take it that the British are looking to the UNGCC for advice?' Dr. Otani said, already sure of the answer.

'If anyone has experience dealing with giant monsters, it would be Japan.'

'It appears that may no longer be the case,' Kohei Yamane commented as he took the report from Dr. Otani. Dr. Otani nodded at the UNGCC officer.

'Tell the British we will give them whatever assistance and advice they require.' Dr. Otani let a troubled smile cross his face. 'I hate to say it, but I find it to be of some comfort that it is not Japan this time. Perhaps fate has decided that we have already had our share of monsters.'

The sun glared down on the sandy beach of Ogasawara. An armored landing craft slid into the shore, its titanium steel door slowly lowering. As the metal portal slammed into the surf, a mass of black, hair bodies exploded from the dark interior of the ship. Twenty water buffalo, eyes wide with fear, the foam of terror dribbling from their mouths, scrambled across the beach, seeking the imagined sanctuary of the jungle. High overhead, cold reptilian eyes watched the animals flee.

Rodan cackled malevolently, diving from the cloudless sky to snatch a pair of steers in his talons. The enormous pterosaur circled the beach again and then made his way toward the volcano crater he had made his roost. The pterosaur dropped the water buffalo into the bowl-like depression and perched atop the rim of the crater. Rodan's beaked head darted down into the crater once, twice, the frightened animal cries silenced. Now, the flying monster would circle the island again, hunting the rest of his food. It was a scene repeated twice a month; the most dangerous duty any of the soldiers stationed at Ogasawara could draw. It had not happened yet, but none of the soldiers who piloted the armored landing craft could help but remember that Rodan had a well-established reputation for consuming human flesh.

Rodan did not perform as his 'keepers' expected this day. The giant pterosaur did indeed circle the island, but he did so only once. Cackling wildly, the monster flapped his massive, leathery wings, heading away from the island. 

'Where is he going?' one of the soldiers in the wheelhouse of the landing craft gasped.

'Looks like he is heading for China,' the other pilot of the landing craft commented.

'Why would Rodan be going to China?' the other man asked, still shocked by the abrupt sundering of Rodan's feeding routine.

'Maybe he feels like Chinese food,' it was a grim and humorless jest. The pilot radioed the command center buried deep beneath Ogasawara's nuclear reactor. With the speed Rodan could achieve, the Chines would have less than an hour to prepare for the monster.

Dr. Shinji Mafune smiled as his old servant brought him a glass of lemonade. The wizened scientist let the icy liquid flow down his parched throat. Titanosaurus had performed exactly as he had expected him to. The London headquarters of MARS was a gutted ruin. The first phase of his revenge had been accomplished. Before he was finished, the MARS corporation would be nothing but a dirty, painful memory.

His children would see to that.


	3. Paris

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part II:

Paris

Maurice de Gobineau was anxious to get back to his office in the squat little building that stood only a few hundred yards from the famous Arc de Triumph. The ex-mercenary was looking forward to reviewing the development of events in Algeria. Indeed, the Algerian campaign was a remarkable achievement for the Paris division of MARS, with the arms dealer selling munitions and weapons to both sides in the ongoing struggle. It did not matter to MARS which side eventually emerged triumphant, so long as they turned a profit. Politics had no place in the free market.

The old mercenary turned his eyes toward the strolling Parisians just outside the window of his limousine. At times, he envied the ignorant masses, unaware of just how fragile and transitory their peace truly was. Few of the young people he saw patronizing the streetside cafes could remember the war, the sight of German soldiers marching victoriously beneath the victory arch built by Napoleon. He would wager his considerable fortune that none of them had ever been knee-deep in sludge and filth in the swamps of the Belgian Congo, or baked beneath the Rhodesian sun. No, the days of honest conflict were over, in their stead had come terrorism, the shadow war where the enemy did not reveal himself until the knife was already in his victim's back. Like any good capitalist, the MARS corporation was adapting to the new face of war. Twenty years ago, MARS would never have supplied terrorists. Now, after the deals de Gobineau had orchestrated, there were few who could ignore the enormous profit potentials.

De Gobineau laughed. There were some in the New York and Tokyo offices that looked upon the Paris division as a loathsome necessity. A few even called it 'Terrorists 'R' Us'. Let them, the time would soon come when the Paris division outshone them all. With the recent destruction of the London headquarters, the Paris MARS division was already well on the way to controlling the entire European and Middle East marketplace. And those were no small markets.

Yes, de Gobineau smirked, someday; he himself might be the CEO of the entire MARS corporation. He might need to remove a few of his fellow employees, but the mercenary had never been adverse to a little violence to better himself.

A pair of American tourists stood before the Arc de Triumph. It was their first trip to Paris, and the young couple wanted to capture the moment. As the man stood before the famous landmark, his sweetheart tried to focus the camera upon him. Something seemed to be wrong. No matter how still she stood, the image in the camera seemed to jump and jitter. Suddenly, the ground began to shake violently. The cry went up. Earthquake!

The tremor continued, increasing in intensity and ferocity. Streets cracked and buckled, trees toppled as their roots retreated from the moving earth. Masonry began to fall from the older Parisian buildings as the violent quake grew still more powerful. People were unable to walk across the bucking ground, every step taken pitching them to the earth. Many began to crawl for the imagined safety of the Arc. It had stood for almost two centuries, surely it would survive the earthquake. It was a wrong decision, the last mistake for all who sought sanctuary beneath the Arc de Triumph.

The ground beneath the Arc seemed to burst open, like a bubble of dirt and stone. One side of the Arc de Triumph crumbled, its massive stone blocks crushing many who had thought to cower beneath its massive façade. More earth began to fall away into the gaping pit that opened beneath the Arc, screaming survivors plummeting into the darkness. A deep, malevolent growl issued from the pit and slowly a glowing light appeared. Moments later, a gigantic brown form leaped from the hole and plunged the thronging masses of Paris into a panic even greater than that brought on by the earthquake.

The monster was over forty meters tall, though it seemed to prefer walking on all fours to remaining on its hind legs. It skin was a leathery reptilian hide, brown in color, with a shell-like armor on its back that was only slightly lighter in shade. Huge elephant-like ears hung from the sides of the monster's malevolent, dog-like face while a great glowing horn emerged from above his nose. The monster bellowed again, his cold red eyes darting back and forth as he watched the Parisian mobs scatter. The motion excited the monster and Baragon's ears became rigid, sticking to either side of his head like those of a bat. The razor-filled mouth of the burrowing monster gaped wide and with another wild leap, Baragon crashed into a string of cafes and coffee shops. The monster lowered his head and began to feed. There was another urge tugging at the back of the monster's brain, but Baragon ignored it. Ever hungry, the voracious beast would allow nothing to come between him and his prey.

The ground beneath the remaining half of the Arc de Triumph shook once more and a huge, lizard-like head pushed its way through the earth, knocking the last vestige of the Arc from its tenuous stance. The second monster slowly and awkwardly pulled himself from the huge hole. The other monster resembled an enormous dinosaur, his scales a dull gray in color except at the belly, where they faded into a dull gray-white hue and on his back, where they darkened until they were almost black. The monster's arms were small and frail, as useless as those of the theodonts he so resembled. But his head was enormous, like that of a monitor lizard save for the oversized jaws and their sharp-edged fangs. Gorosaurus let his own high-pitched bellow drown out the sounds of Baragon's screaming victims. 

Unlike the burrowing monster Gorosaurus had followed to the French capital, no unending hunger consumed Gorosaurus. The giant dinosaur turned away from the pit and began to advance towards the line of squat stone buildings the urge directed him towards. Like Titanosaurus in London, the dinosaur did not understand the metal letters which topped the building, did not recognize the name MARS. He only knew that he must destroy the structure. Gorosaurus stood before the building and reared back, almost resting upon his long, powerful tail. The monster lashed out with both of his massive legs, delivering a battering kick to the structure which shook it to its foundations and knocked two of the steel letters into the street. Gorosaurus continued his assault, battering away at the building until it collapsed into a pile of rubble.

Gorosaurus turned away from the ruins of the Paris division of MARS and began his slow, methodical return to Baragon's tunnel. The urge had been satisfied and there was nothing more for the enormous dinosaur here. Gorosaurus trampled the shattered remains of the Arc de Triumph and returned to the darkness of the pit.

Baragon, however, continued his voracious carnage, snatching up screaming masses of humanity with each snap of his jaws. He chased after the fleeing people, trampling the cars that choked the streets in his pursuit. Baragon did not notice the dark elegant automobile one of his taloned paws flattened. He did not see the small figure cowering inside the limousine that had been crushed as the car's metal roof was pressed flat against the floor of the car. For Maurice de Gobineau, there would be no more schemes, no more plots. Not even a grave would mark the man's passing, for no one would be able to identify the pulpy mess pressed between the floor and ceiling of the limo.

At last, several tanks lumbered toward the chaos. The French armored vehicles formed a wedge and began to fire on Baragon. The giant monster did not seem to be fazed by the shelling, but he was annoyed. The huge beast reared up off the ground, standing on his hind legs. Baragon's mouth opened wide and a gout of fire hurled at the French tanks, bathing them in flame. Some of the tanks exploded under the terrible fire, their fuel tanks unable to withstand the heat. Other soldiers were not so lucky, as the heat baked the metal of the tanks and cooked the crews inside their machines.

As Baragon retreated from the blazing wreckage of the tanks, missiles slammed into his armored back. Two French Mirage fighters circled overhead, diving toward the monster for a second attack. Baragon stared at the oncoming enemies. They would not draw near enough for Baragon to destroy them with his fire. Nor would he need them to. A brilliant light flashed from the monster's horn, searing the eyes of the two pilots. Blinded, the men panicked, one plane slamming into the other and exploding. The other fighter, its left-wing gone, spun end over end across the sky until it crashed in a residential section far away.

Baragon roared again and looked about for something more to eat. When he did not see any fleeing crowds of food, the monster returned to his burrow. Behind him, Baragon left a Paris that would again remember what destruction and death were and that such misery did not spare any nation for long.

* * * * * *

Dr. Otani could not recall having ever had so many people in the conference chamber that formed a part of the subterranean 'Monsterland' facility. Certainly he had conducted meetings with the staff and scientists of the Ogasawara project many times, but they numbered only a few dozen, at the most. Now, he was addressing about a hundred. Many of those present were prominent, well known veterans of the struggle against Godzilla, others were from foreign equivalents to the UNGCC, such as the United States' GARD and the newly-organized MDH - Monster Defiance Headquarters - of Europe.

Dr. Otani looked at those assembled around him in the room. He could see the stern visage of Commander Aso, military head of the UNGCC and Director Segawa, the civilian chief of the organization. Sitting near to Segawa was Miki Saegusa, joined on this occasion by G-Force's Koji Shijo, one of the men who had fought the Space Godzilla in Fukuoka with the MOGERA robot. Near to them were Dr. Asimov, creator of MOGERA and its forerunner, Mechagodzilla, as well as two of the pilots of that robot, Captain Sasaki and Lieutenant Catherine Berger. 

The GARD representatives were at the far end of the room, led by US Navy Commander James Brandon. Also present was America's pre-eminent giant monster biologist, Dr. Raymond Martin, the son of the only American to survive the original Godzilla's 1954 attack on Tokyo.

Nearer to Dr. Otani was another link to the beginnings of the giant monster menace, Kohei Yamane, grandson of the man who discovered the first Godzilla. Beside Yamane was Professor Kashiwagi, who had risen to become an expert on the monster Rodan among the staff of Monsterland. Next to Kashiwagi was Dr. Murai, who had been studying Mothra. Sitting beside him on the table was a large velvet-line box in which Mothra's diminutive priestesses sat. It had caused no small amount of discussion among those present when Dr. Murai had entered and revealed the Cosmos. No one had even thought the twin fairies might be interested in the concerns of far away lands. The wizened astronomer Dr. Adachi, biologist Dr. Yoshida and Japan's foremost expert on Godzilla, Professor Hayashida, who had developed the sonic call that had lured Godzilla to Mt. Mihara back in 1985, completed the core of Ogasawara's scientific body.

Most of the men in the ranks of the MDH were unknown to Dr. Otani. He recognized the uniforms of at least five nation's militaries and had been told that some of the men were veterans of battling the monsters Gorgo and Reptilicus back in the 1960's. Unlike Japan, Europe had not been bothered by monsters since and had grown lax. The MDH was a last-minute effort to redress that lack of vigilance. Both the UNGCC and GARD representatives felt that it was a case of too little too late.

The discussion had begun the day after two kaiju had attacked Paris. Although the actual damage had been slight, compared to that done to London the previous week, the loss in human life had been staggering. One of the newly risen monsters had been reported to have actually devoured nearly two thousand people, the exact number being impossible to guess at. Indeed, it had lingered long after its companion had withdrawn to the underground tunnel the monster had dug beneath the city in order to feast on its human prey. The people of France had never been victims of a monster's attentions before and this man-eating beast had been a terrible introduction indeed.

Dr. Otani was about to adjoin the meeting when a young, somehow rugged looking Japanese man entered the chamber and made his way to the podium. He quietly asked Dr. Otani if he might address the assembly. Somewhat puzzled by this turn of events, Dr. Otani nodded and allowed the newcomer to speak.

'My name is Murakoshi. I am an agent of Interpol.' The man's words met with a hushed babble of whispers. His next statement silenced the room. 'We have identified the monsters that attacked Paris yesterday, and the one that attacked London last week.' 

'How can this be?' asked Professor Hayashida, rising from his seat. 'Beasts such as that were unknown to science until their attack.'

'Unknown to science, perhaps, but not to Interpol.' Murakoshi licked his lips and considered how best to continue. 'In the late 1980's we were trying to track down a renegade bio-geneticist who had been working for Iraq to develop a new, untreatable strain of anthrax. I very nearly captured the man in Buenos Aires, but he eluded us. What we did manage to find were some of his notebooks.' Murakoshi set the pair of thin volumes down on the table, allowing the staff of Ogasawara to examine the charcoal drawings on the pages Murakoshi indicated.

'What does this mean?' Dr. Yoshida gasped. There could be no doubt; the drawings were indeed of the monsters that had attacked two of Europe's great cities.

'The monsters that attacked Paris are named Baragon and Gorosaurus. The one that attacked London is Titanosaurus. At least that is what Dr. Shinji Mafune calls them in his notes.' Murakoshi trained his icy eyes on the room. 'Interpol believes that these were blueprints, plans from which Dr. Mafune engineered his monsters. We also believe that he is the one behind these attacks.'

'He must be a madman!' exclaimed a French MDH officer.

'Three monsters under the control of a lunatic,' muttered Commander Aso. 'How can this get any worse.'

Murakoshi stared at Commander Aso. 'It is worse,' he tapped the notebooks. 'It is worse because we believe that Dr. Mafune might have another monster, and we have no idea where or when he will unleash it.'

The Indian mahout rose from the ground, his ragged clothes made even more ragged by the violent fall from his elephant. The man had no idea what had happened. One moment he had been atop the great animal, the next he had found himself facedown in the dust. As the man looked around for some sign of his elephant, he became aware of the cold, slimy smell in the air. It was like death, only more concentrated than he had ever smelled, even when the plague had come to his mother's village. The man focused upon his animal's tracks, confused when the abruptly stopped. It was as if the animal had disappeared, there was no sign of where it had gone. The mahout looked across the broken trees to where another man was leading another elephant away from a lumber camp with a cargo of logs. 

Without warning, an enormous red-brown shape raced across the mahout's line of vision. When it had passed, both man and elephant were gone. From high overhead, the stunned Hindu could hear an unearthly cackle. The man began to tremble and say prayers to every god he could think of. Even in the hinterlands of India, the cry of the monster Rodan was known. And feared.

Dr. Shinji Mafune relaxed in his wicker-backed chair on the veranda of his plantation house. A cool breeze blew through the scientist's snow-colored hair. A satisfied smile graced the wizened face. It was a rare thing for the old man to feel happy, but today he indulged himself in the emotion.

Another of the MARS corporation's headquarters had been reduced to rubble. Dr. Mafune had been worried when he sent the burrowing monster Baragon. Baragon had been his second creation, but Mafune had little control over the voracious predator. To be truthful, the scientist was somewhat afraid of his creation. He depended on his other children to keep the aggressive Baragon from turning on his creator. Indeed, he had been so unsure of Baragon that he had sent the more tractable Gorosaurus along to make certain that the MARS building fell. While Gorosaurus might not have Baragon's ability to tunnel beneath the earth, he was more than capable of following behind the monster and, as events had proved, much more prone to do Dr. Mafune's bidding.

Two of his targets had been destroyed. It was a beginning, but Dr. Mafune had much more work for his creations before his revenge was finished. Much more work.


	4. Moscow

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part III:

Moscow

Boris Mishkin was a very unhappy man. Once, he had been a high-ranking agent of the Soviet KGB. His name had been a word to instill fear in the highest circles of the Communist party, for no man truly counted himself safe within the corrupt regime. He had the respect of his comrades, and the dignity due his station. And more than that, Boris Mishkin had had power.

Boris Mishkin snorted in disgust. Power, he had little enough of that now. He wandered among the masses of wooden crates in the enormous warehouse and thought of how far he had fallen. From spy master of the KGB to head of the MARS Corporation's Moscow headquarters, what amounted to their bargain bin, buying AK-47's from Russian soldiers for the price of a week's lodgings and a few bottles of vodka. It hardly amounted to anything at all and did not command any respect from his superiors. True, there had been bright moments, such as the two nuclear warheads he had arranged to procure from a Russian general desperate to ensure a prosperous retirement, but such moments had been all too few and the memory of MARS all too short to sustain Mishkin's elevation.

Mishkin struck one of the crates nearest him, barely feeling the wooden splinters impaling his knuckles through the haze of vodka that warmed his body. If only that idiot Gorbachev had not been made premier, all would be as it was. Perhaps, Mishkin dared to hope, he might even have been made premier had the communists continued to hold power. Boris Mishkin, Premier of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, not Boris Mishkin, lap dog of the capitalist MARS corporation. Mishkin slammed his fist into another crate as his mind made the comparison between the man he had been and the man he now was. At first his befuddled mind thought that it was the vodka that made him stumble to the floor, that it was the vodka which made the crates and walls around him seem to tremble and shake. Only after a few moments more did Mishkin realize that his surroundings were indeed moving, that a violent tremor was crawling through the ground beneath him. 

The ground shook, rattling the window frames of much of Moscow. Startled, frightened Russians staggered from the tremendous earthquake, clutching at the swaying brick walls of buildings to steady themselves against the bucking earth. And still the tremor grew in its fury. Window frames continued to tremble until they shattered the glass they contained. Apartment complexes and factories, constructed under the none too exacting standards of the Soviet, cracked and crumbled into piles of brick and mortar, burying masses of humanity beneath the rubble. Before the earthquake stopped, Moscow was already in a state of disaster beyond anything the city had experienced since the Second World War. Nor had its suffering ended. Indeed, the earthquake was nothing compared to what was to come.

The street before the Russian White House, site of the Russian parliament, erupted in a brown cloud of dirt and rubble. A low howl tore through the obscuring veil of dust, a low howl punctuated by a short, sharp bark. Emerging from the tunnel he had dug beneath the Russian capital was a monster from the Earth's primordial past, a tremendous beast that echoed the dead dinosaurs with a sound of horror. 

In shape, the monster was like some gargantuan lizard, its hide covered in dark gray scales. The beast's head was long and pointed into a fanged snout. Atop the monster's snout, a short horn stood. At the back of the monster's head was a crown of larger horns. The creature's back was an armored shell, like that of an armadillo or the extinct ankylosaurus, its surface broken by a mass of sharp, spike-like growths. The monster's tail was long, and like the shell, covered in long, sharp spikes. Indeed, the very tip of the tail was a mass of thinner, sharper spikes, which stood in ranks as rigid as any Roman pikeman formation.

The beast barked again, scrambling away from the hole it had emerged from and plowing into a tenement building. The monster paid no heed to the screaming, fleeing insects which swarmed around him. There was no hunger motivating this giant reptile. He was Anguirus, the last of Dr. Shinji Mafune's creations, and a different urge propelled him deeper into the Russian city.

Anguirus sped through the streets of Moscow, his huge claws ripping apart the Russian buildings and gouging massive wounds in the surface of the roads. The monster's advance was so swift that some people were still recovering from the earthquake the creature's tunneling had caused when the monster was upon them. Hundreds were crushed beneath Anguirus' feet without gaining more than a fleeting glance at their killer. Anguirus howled again, the urge nearly satisfied. He could see his target ahead; a squat, ugly tan structure nestled beside a dilapidated government building. The giant beast hurtled forward.

The crack and thunder of artillery sounded above the sounds of Anguirus' triumph. A brigade of Russian tanks lumbered toward the beast, the tank commanders already ordering a second salvo readied. Most of the shells had struck the spiny shell on the monster's back, blackening it but failing to penetrate. The tank commanders hoped to draw closer still, where they could target the seemingly more vulnerable scaly underside of the monster. Anguirus turned toward the source of the attack. The giant reptile's eyes focused upon the line of Russian armor, narrowing as the long barrels of the Russian guns exploded and the second attack struck the monster's head and neck. The shells again failed to penetrate the monster's hide, but they did have an effect. Anguirus understood that he had been attacked, challenged by these small metal machines. The urge still drove Anguirus toward the tan building, but a deeper need filled the mutant ankylosaurus, a need for battle.

Anguirus howled and charged toward the Russian tanks at tremendous speed. The tank commanders were swift to react, some ordering their crews to fire upon the monster a third time, others telling their drivers to reverse their weapons away from the oncoming mammoth. Those who held their ground were trampled beneath the claws of the charging Anguirus, or swatted by the monster's powerful tail, the armored vehicles hurtling across the landscape to be buried in the walls of buildings. The tanks that retreated fared little better. Anguirus stared at the fleeing attackers, snarling at such cowardice. The reptile snorted derisively and charged after the vehicles, hunting them through the streets. Some thought to elude Anguirus by maneuvering around corners, putting towering buildings between the monster and themselves. It was a feeble tactic; Anguirus clawed his way through the buildings and fell upon the retreating tankers all the same. Of the thirty tanks that had thought to confront Anguirus, only five escaped with their lives.

Anguirus turned back towards the building that was his target. His pursuit of the tanks had led him far from the MARS warehouse, but it had cost the monster very little time. Anguirus again tore through the streets of Moscow to again reach his target. The enormous armored body burst through the structures which stood in his way, ignoring the massive blocks of stone and masonry that crashed upon his head. There were no distractions now, only the urge.

The Russian MiG fighters dove towards the huge creature as Anguirus stood immobile for a moment amidst the rubble of a devastated factory. Rockets exploded all around the huge beast, bathing the giant reptile in fire. Anguirus turned his head skyward, howling in rage at the planes as they circled around for another attack. For the pilots, there was a grim hope that they might drive Anguirus from their city. They might not be able to harm the huge monster, but neither, it appeared, could Anguirus harm them. In time, the beast might grow frustrated by the continued attacks and his inability to lash out at the planes and decide to leave Moscow. It was a feeble hope, but one the Russian wing commander felt was worth pursuing.

The MiGs dived again, once more unleashing the destructive fury of their missiles. Again, the huge monster was unharmed. Again, Anguirus barked at the jets as they circled around for a third attack. An attack which would never come.

A huge shape plummeted from the clouds at a speed beyond reckoning. The shock wave of the shape's descent shattered the formation of the MiGs, more than one of the planes spinning out of control to crash and burn in the streets of the city they had hoped to save. The few planes that could regain control sped away from the new arrival. Anguirus was an unknown quantity, a new creature which military might could, perhaps, control. The monster that had descended from the clouds was a different matter. It would take more than a handful of Russian fighters to drive off the terrible Rodan.

Rodan circled above the ruins, cackling his unearthly cry. The shockwave of his rapid descent had devastated entire blocks, turning them on the instant from homes and workplaces to tombs and rubble. Men and debris had been thrown across the city; some of the wrack striking the city's other attacker. It was more of an insult than an attack, at least to the mind of the reptilian juggernaut who turned his eyes skyward. Anguirus barked at the circling brown titan, daring it to descend and confront him.

Descend Rodan did, rocketing downward from the sky, streaking toward the squat beast which howled at him. Rodan did not deign to strike Anguirus, instead speeding past the giant dinosaur. It was the powerful shockwave which followed the flying terror that assaulted Anguirus. The tremendous blast of velocity lifted Anguirus, rolling the creature across the terrain, the monster's spiky back gouging huge holes in the ground as he rolled. At last, Anguirus crashed into the very building he had been sent to destroy. Ironically, the ruins of the MARS warehouse stopped Anguirus' tumbling. Enraged, disoriented, Anguirus rose from the rubble. He shook his head from side to side, trying to decide if he really did see two leather-winged terrors flying towards him.

Rodan cackled madly, rocketing toward the reptile now rising from the ruins. He did not pay much heed to the long spiky tail that arced upwards from behind the giant dinosaur's back. Nor were even Rodan's swift reflexes enough to halt his strike when several long, needle-like quills sped away from the spiky tail to embed themselves in the huge pterosaur's flesh. The impact was enough to cause Rodan's mighty wings to fail and the giant flying fiend fell from the sky, just as the MiGs had done before him, but with even more disastrous results for the city of Moscow. A great column of dust and debris shot high into the sky as the giant monster's body crashed into the earth, destroying an entire district in an instant. The city shook once more as tremors from Rodan's impact ravaged already weakened buildings.

Anguirus made to move towards where the monster had fallen, determine to pursue the battle, but an urge to flee filled him. It was contrary to his instincts to leave a battle unfinished, but this new command was far more powerful than that which had driven him towards the MARS warehouse and it would not be denied. Barking his own disappointment, Anguirus turned away and returned to his tunnel. With unbelievable speed, the armored dinosaur disappeared back into the darkness below the earth.

A few moments later, Rodan burst from beneath a pile of rubble, roaring in rage, flapping his massive wings furiously. The winged terror returned to the sky, circling Moscow for any sign of his enemy. The huge spines still stuck from his flesh, his radioactive blood drizzling down from the overcast sky like a crimson shower of disease. Anger and frustration caused Rodan's speed to increase his cries to become even more wrathful and enraged. Cars and trees were cast away by the howling hurricane the beating of Rodan's wings created. The flying monster circled the Kremlin itself, the shockwave of his advance shattering the domed minarets and towers. With a last cry of wrath, Rodan turned away from the desolation of the Russian capital, turning once again toward the Orient to nurse his wounds, and his desire for retribution.

* * * * * *

'Well, I guess we don't have to worry about where and when Mafune is going to unleash his fourth monster,' Comdr. Brandon of the United State's Godzilla Armed Response Division commented as the giant dinosaur's attack on Moscow was replayed on the screen before him. Murakoshi stared at the crass American officer. His look of annoyance was mirrored on the face of the UNGCC's Commander Aso. Brandon might be his counterpart in the United States, but that did not mean Aso had to like the man. He had gotten along much better with the old head of GARD, General O'Brien of the US Army, but after the Mechani-Kong tragedy, the general had been forced to step down.

'Perhaps this will see an end to it?' offered General Wilhelm Streicker of the MDH. A German Luftwaffe officer, Streicker had been given nominal control of the fledgling Monster Defiance Headquarters of Europe. Even he did not sound convinced by his words.

'I don't think so,' commented Murakoshi. 'Mafune has revealed his monsters, but we have yet to discover the pattern in these attacks.'

'Possibly he seeks to cripple the world's economy,' offered Director Segawa. 'He has already put the capitals of three great nations in ruin. Who is to say that he will not continue this pattern?'

'A terrorist, pure and simple,' snarled Commander Brandon. 'Wait and see, we will be receiving demands from this maniac soon enough now that he has unveiled all of his toys.'

'But who is to say that he has?' interjected Dr. Otani, his voice filled with worry. 'The documents Interpol captured are almost two decades old, who can say just how many creatures this madman has created?' Dr. Otani's words chilled everyone in the room. It was Murakoshi who at last broke the silence.

'We are faced with two problems. The first is to stop these attacks. The second is to find Dr. Shinji Mafune. If we can solve this second problem, then we will solve our first one. I am already following leads which I hope will put me on the right track.' The Interpol agent's voice was grave. 'I feel that I am closer than ever before, but bear in mind that Dr. Mafune has been wanted by Interpol for twenty years. Only a very clever and cunning man could elude capture for so long.'

'But what do we do in the meantime?' demanded Commander Aso. 'We cannot just allow these monsters to continue their rampages at will. Nor is fortifying the capitals of every nation on earth an option!'

'I must agree with officer Murakoshi,' commented Kohei Yamane. 'These creatures may be monsters in every sense of the word, but there is a human intellect behind them. There is a pattern to these attacks. If we can find that pattern, we can predict where the monsters will strike next. And prepare for their arrival.'

'Maybe you can use Rodan to sniff them out,' commented Commander Brandon snidely. 'He seemed to track down Anguirus easily enough.'

'Professor Kashiwagi assures me that Rodan's presence there was pure coincidence,' Dr. Otani said, his voice betraying his annoyance with the crass American officer. 'Rodan was likely searching for prey when he sensed the other monster and attacked. And need I remind you that Rodan did more damage to Moscow than Mafune's monster? Using Rodan against these creatures would be like fighting a fire with gasoline!'

Dr. Otani thought for a long moment before speaking again. 'Murakoshi is correct, there is a pattern to these attacks, and we must find it.' The Japanese scientist's eyes focused on the Russian carnage being displayed on the scene. 'We must find it before another city burns.'


	5. Interlude

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Interlude

Twelve grim-faced men were seated around a massive mahogany table in a room high above the streets of Manhattan. The men argued amongst themselves, their voices rising as anger and panic threatened to overcome their carefully cultivated veneer of civility. Only one man seated at the table did not join in the heated argument. Tall, thin almost to a point which could be described as cadaverous, Mr. John Latos seemed indifferent to the fear which seemed to rule the men seated around him, almost as if he was above such petty concerns. CEO of all of the multinational branches of MARS, Latos was certainly above the various chairmen and presidents sharing the room with him.

The gaunt, wizened figure rose from his seat and glared at the MARS executives, his burning gaze silencing arguments wherever he found them. Latos let a smile twist the corner of his mouth when quiet claimed the room. Even in his old age, the 'war wizard' could silence a room without saying a word. Latos remained standing, allowing his gnarled knuckles to rest against the table to better support his aged frame.

'If you are all quite finished,' Latos said, his voice carrying the slightest hint of the antebellum South in its drawl.

'What you have told us is astonishing,' stated a MARS executive dressed in a simple black suit and red tie. The man seemed to shrink deeper into his chair when Latos' looked at him.

'What is more astonishing is that we did not make the connection sooner!' snapped Latos. 'Three cities attacked in as many weeks, and each time, our offices happen to be victims of the carnage. I assure you that I have initiated some housekeeping measures with regards to our security agencies.'

'But giant monsters?' another MARS executive questioned. 'Can we really be certain that the destruction of our buildings was not just a coincidence?'

Latos nodded to a man seated at the far end of the table. 'Chairman Carmichael, did it seem accidental when the monster attacked your building?' 

Chairman Carmichael sneered at the executive who had questioned Latos. 'This monster, this Titanosaurus, headed straight for the Ares Building. I barely made it to the bomb shelter in the basement before the whole thing came crashing down about my ears! I was beneath several tons of brick and steel at the time, but I understand that after the monster destroyed our offices, it returned to the Thames and left London. Does that sound like the incidental rampage of an overgrown animal, or does it sound like a deliberate attack?'

Latos nodded at the hawk-nosed British MARS executive. 'We have more to go on beside Chairman Carmichael's observations. We know who is behind these attacks. I have already put the full resources of our corporation into finding this mad man, and dealing with him. The reason I called this meeting is to announce what we will do to protect ourselves until then.'

Latos turned away from the table, staring through the window at his back. The CEO of MARS did not turn around to face his subordinates when he continued his decree. 'This lunatic is targeting our main offices. With Paris, London, and Moscow already destroyed, that leaves two regional offices and our worldwide headquarters here in New York. I have analyzed the problem, and have decided that we can afford to defend only two of these targets. Naturally, we shall take steps to protect this building. As for the two remaining regional centers, I have decided that Tokyo is a more vital asset than our San Francisco offices, especially in light of Vander Van Hise's incompetent legacy.'

'You are just going to abandon San Francisco?' the president of the regional office in that city cried out. Latos glared at his son. 

'San Francisco must fend for itself,' Latos declared. 'If I might make a suggestion, now would be a good time to take a vacation. Still, it is a good captain who remains with a sinking ship.'

Murakoshi slipped into the back seat of the car that had arrived at the airport. The Interpol agent had just returned from Ogasawara and eager to confer with his superior. Murakoshi greeted the man who shared the rear of the car with him. The two men began to talk as the driver maneuvered his vehicle away from the airport.

'Did things go as you hoped?' the senior Interpol officer asked. Murakoshi nodded his head.

'I explained to them all about Dr. Mafune and his creatures. I think we can assume that news of who is behind these attacks will reach the right ears.'

'You are really convinced that this is the best way to handle this?' the detective sounded skeptical.

'If we made a formal request for assistance,' Murakoshi assured his superior, 'it would do more harm than good. The governments involved would see our request as an accusation of not only employing this man, but perhaps of being behind these attacks as well.' Murakoshi paused, collecting his thoughts. 'By doing it this way, by letting them bring news of Mafune's involvement back to their own governments, there will be no taint of accusation attached. The involved agencies might be more inclined to assist us in finding Dr. Mafune.'

'You think that any of them do know where he is?'

'Somehow contact is being made with Mafune. I know that recently he was rumored to be working for the American CIA in the Caribbean. Perhaps they will help us find him. After all, a madman with four giant dinosaurs can't be a very reliable asset for anyone. I don't think anybody would have anything to gain by sheltering the man.'

Murakoshi stared out the window of the car, watching as construction crews labored on the ruins of Tokyo's waterfront, repairing the damage done by Gigan and King Kong only a year ago.

'We have to find Mafune soon, before his monsters strike again.'

Dr. Shinji Mafune watched the newscast, his face reddening with every word. At last, the white-headed scientist rose from his chair and angrily turned the television off. For good measure, he pounded his fist against the top of the set.

'So, they say that Rodan destroyed Moscow!' the irate scientist roared. 'My Anguirus was driven off by the monster! If I had allowed that fight to continue, they would know better! Anguirus would have made short work of Rodan, would have flattened the entire city had I commanded him to!' Mafune stomped from the room, onto his veranda and out into the lush tropical jungle that covered his island.

'I'll show them!' the scientist muttered to himself. 'I'll show them what my Anguirus can really do! Then the whole world will know that I am not a man to be slighted!' The mad doctor's steps carried him to the edge of a vast, bowl-like depression. Dr. Mafune beamed down at the four gigantic creatures resting on the floor of the basin.

'Up and at 'em!' Dr. Mafune shouted down to the spiky hill of Anguirus' back. 'There is more work to be done! Time to show the world what you are really made of!'

A huge reptilian muzzle rose into the air and a low whining howl echoed across the island as Anguirus responded to his creator's summons. Another urge was forming in the giant dinosaur's mind and, soon, another city would burn.


	6. San Francisco

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part IV:

San Francisco

The cable car operator gazed lazily at the smoggy, brown-hued sky. A slight breeze drifted from the harbor, but it did little to offset the loathsome heat that seared upwards from the asphalt. It was another day of transporting tourists up and down the hilly streets of San Francisco. Caesare Ramirez has tired of his job, tired of the monotony and tedium, tired of the long hours and poor pay. Just once, the Californian wished something different would happen.

Suddenly, the streets began to shudder and shake. Tourists bolted for cover, but the native Californians paid the slight tremor little heed. Earthquakes were a common occurrence, and it would take more than a slight jostle to alarm them. But the slight trembler continued, growing in intensity. When the glass panes in the windows of buildings began to cringe from the shaking, the inhabitants of San Francisco joined their tourist guests in racing for the imagined security of doorways and the undersides of tables. Still the quake grew in power. It was unusual, increasing slowly rather than swiftly. Almost as if some great beast were burrowing its way to the surface.

The sound of a million shrieking harpies seemed to fill the air as countless windows shattered under the unremitting trembler. Shards of glass fell from towering skyscrapers, becoming deadly projectiles as they plummeted from the heights to skewer unfortunate pedestrians who had not yet gained shelter from the earthquake. Screams and cries of agony rose above the tinkling crash of glass. And still it was not the end. Manhole covers flew into the sky as streets buckled and warped. Stone facades cracked and crumbled, chunks of masonry burrowing their way into the ground as they fell, flattening man and machine alike in their violent descent. Gas mains erupted into spouting geysers of flame. Lights flickered and died as subterranean power lines were sundered.

San Francisco had become a madman's vision of Hell in only a few short minutes. Caesare Ramirez muttered to himself, not daring to bring his trolley car to a stop. The tremor continued to increase, the devastation and carnage all around him grow more and more horrible. The little trolley car seemed like some sort of sanctuary in the midst of the havoc. It was to prove a very temporary sanctuary.

As the trolley car crested a one hill the slope beneath it burst open like a pustulent sore. Slabs of asphalt flew in all directions and a huge armored shape clawed its way into the sunlight. Anguirus howled his low-pitched cry and shook the dirt and rubble from his spiky carapace. He did not notice the little trolley car or its screaming conductor as the vehicle slammed into his scaly chest. Anguirus paid even less attention to the mass of twisted metal he crushed beneath his feet as he crawled from the tunnel. There was only the urge filling him now. An urge to destroy. An urge Anguirus would satisfy.

David Latos snarled at the technicians. They were moving far too slowly to suit him. News had already reached the San Francisco headquarters of MARS that the monster Anguirus had appeared in the city. He knew that it was up to MARS to defend itself, the United States armed forces would not arrive until long after Mafune's monster had succeeded in its mission. 

The veiled threat his father had made to him at the meeting in New York had been clear, it was time for David to impress John Latos, or remove himself from the possibility of succeeding the old man as head of the MARS corporation. It was just the sort of thing the old arms manufacturer would do, testing his sons to make sure that they were worthy of his esteem. David's brother Keith had succeeded only slightly and now was a simple project head of a weapons project in Africa. David's other brother had failed. Robert Latos was now occupying some mass grave in Cambodia. But David would not fail, and someday he would succeed his father, and spit on the old tyrant's grave.

The weapon the men were hurrying to ready had been designed for a foreign government, but just now David Latos felt that MARS needed it more than the dictator who had commissioned it did. An electronic cannon, drawing its destructive energies from a plutonium power cell, all housed in a chassis as innocuous as any satellite dish. David had had the weapon mounted atop the San Francisco Warhawk tower upon his return from New York. If the rest of MARS would not put its resources to the tower's defense, then it would be David Latos' task to do so.

David Latos peered down from the lofty height. He could see the Sears Tower away to his left, the only building in the entire city to rival the Warhawk's stature. He could see Oakland in the distance, Alcatraz Island and the Golden Gate Bridge. The University of Berkley momentarily drew his attention. He had toyed with the notion of roasting the college with his weapon, ridding the world of the swarming mass of neo-hippies who gathered there to perpetuate the myth of peace and love as a viable form of government. In the end, David Latos had decided that such an action would draw too much attention to MARS and its unlicensed defenses. Still, with the monster now here, the possibility for some constructive destruction was again making itself appealing.

'Is the cannon ready?' David Latos said over his shoulder as he watched the monster trampling through the narrow streets on its way toward the tower. He watched as Anguirus made short work of a police cordon meant to drive him back. The armored vehicles and automatic weapons of the SFPD had done nothing to slow the monster's frenzied pace. It had kicked the blue-painted armored cars away from it as if they had been toys. David Latos shook his head and clucked his tongue. Perhaps this little display would show the great cities of the world how to protect themselves from such a threat. Perhaps MARS would even turn a profit as a result of his initiative in defending the Warhawk tower. 

'That thing isn't stopping,' David Latos warned the technicians. 

'We are ready now, sir,' one of the gray uniformed engineers declared.

'Then get a bead on that beast and blast a hole right between his goddamn eyes!' David Latos snarled.

Anguirus tore through the streets, gouging holes in the sides of the buildings he passed with the sides of his armored shell. Nothing seemed capable of stopping the monster's assault. The meager arsenal of the police had done nothing to hinder the beast's progress, and the few National Guard tanks which had lumbered into Anguirus' path had fared just as poorly. Ahead, the giant dinosaur could see his target and a bark of triumph sounded from his scaly throat, shattering the windows of the buildings to either side of him.

The cry of triumph became a bellow of pain as an arcing beam of crackling blue light slammed into the dinosaur's head. The impact drove Anguirus backwards, the fierce energy knocking the brute onto his back. Anguirus writhed in agony as the blue light continued to lash his body, stabbing him with a thousand burning lashes of synthetic lightning. Anguirus rolled, crashing through a line of old Victorian homes, the debris shielding him slightly from the crackling assault. The monster forced himself upright, taking two awkward steps toward his attacker before dropping back to all fours as the artificial lightning slammed into him once more. Again, Anguirus howled, but this time there was rage and frustration mixed in with the pain. The lightning was oblivious to the dinosaur's cry and again lashed out at him.

'We are driving the beast back!' cried one of the technicians jubilantly. The small group of men assembled on the roof of the MARS headquarters joined the man in cheering.

_It is working_, David Latos thought to himself. But would simply driving the beast off be enough? How much grander the glory, and potential profit, should he actually kill the monster? Perhaps he would not have to wait for old John Latos' long deferred death to assume control of the MARS corporation. The death of Anguirus would impress the board of directors, perhaps enough to rise up against the tyrant who had kept them in silence for so very long.

'Increase the current,' David Latos said coldly. 'I want maximum power.' The technical crew stared at their boss with looks of bewilderment.

'Sir, we are driving it off,' one of the men pointed out.

'I don't want it driven off, I want it dead!' snapped David Latos. The executive marched over to the operator's chair and pushed the technician aside. He levered the power switch to its lowest level, far beyond the red zone.

'Sir, the plutonium core!' one of the technicians shouted. Most of the men on the rooftop scrambled away from the electronic cannon and the steadily rising whine emanating from it.

The dark blue lightning sizzled against Anguirus' back once again, the intense power warping several of his spines. The mutant dinosaur howled in agony, thick red blood dribbling from between his fangs. Electricity swirled about the monster, ravaging his body, blackening his scales. Blood sizzled as it trickled from his nose, yet still the monster would not retreat. Dimly, some instinct told Anguirus that he was dying, but the monster ignored his instincts. There was only the urge now. The urge and a brutal desire to rend and claw the foe who continued to smite him from afar.

David Latos laughed. It was working. He could see the electronic cannon beginning to kill the monster. A few more seconds, just a few moments more would be all he would need to kill Anguirus. If the electronic cannon would only remain functional for a few more seconds….

The explosion could be seen as far away as Sacramento and Oregon as a dim flash on the horizon. In San Francisco, those who were looking at the Warhawk tower were blinded when its upper floors disappeared in a billowing atomic cloud, their corneas flash-burned by the intense light. Radioactive fallout would poison the city for years, leaving it a semi-inhabited desolation. 

In the shocking aftermath of the electronic cannon's overload, it was something of a cruel trick of fate when the monster that had been the weapon's target returned to his burrow. 

Murakoshi moved closer toward the stucco wall. At his side were another Interpol officer and a pair of Colombian soldiers. The men watched and waited for Murakoshi to give them the signal to act. Murakoshi was waiting for the sound of General Alcazar's assault on the outer wall of the compound to begin his much more selective attack on the inside.

Juan Pedro Rodriguez Salazar was one of the most notorious of the drug lords commonly referred to as the Colombian cartels. Recent information provided by the Colombian government explained why. It was believed that Salazar's cocaine was an engineered strain, far hardier than natural coca plants and capable of producing many more leaves. The implication was clear. At some point, Salazar had been the patron of Dr. Shinji Mafune, the most hunted man in the world.

Fear of an attack by Mafune's monsters on Bogota had probably served as the inspiration for the Colombians' sudden desire to bring down the notorious drug lord. It was not hard for Murakoshi to imagine corrupt bureaucrats deciding that Mafune's monsters were more terrifying than the wrath of the cartels and the shrinking of their own bank accounts.

The sound of explosions and small arms fire suddenly shattered the quiet night air. Murakoshi looked over at the men with him and nodded. Almost as one man they rose from the cover of Salazar's garden. Murakoshi could see a man wearing a red shirt standing only a few feet away. The guard had a long-barreled AK-47 in his hands and a puzzled look on his face. Clearly, the guard did not know what he was supposed to do if the estate was attacked. He would never learn. A spray of bullets from on of the soldier's sub-machine guns tore through the red shirt and the man underneath, freezing the puzzled look on his dying features.

The next guards Murakoshi's command encountered were neither so disoriented, nor so easily dealt with. As they raced up the steps leading into Salazar's palatial home, two men burst from the cover of the building's doorway. One bullet clipped Murakoshi's partner, spinning the man into the dirt. Murakoshi and the two Colombians dove over the side of the stairway. Murakoshi's pistol was already aimed even as he finished tumbling. As he had anticipated, the ambushers raced forward, intending to spray bullets into the men behind the stair. As they reached the lip of the stone banister, Murakoshi fired, his bullet speeding through the gunman's jaw. The dead man toppled down, his corpse almost landing ontop of the Interpol agent. The other guard retreated. Heedless of the possibility of innocent bystanders, one of the soldiers drew a grenade from his vest and hurled the explosive over the top of the stair. A moment later there was an explosion and the guard's body was sent flying over the heads of his adversaries to lie smoking and charred on the drug lord's lawn.

Murakoshi and the two soldiers raced into the manor house, the Interpol agent sparing a moment to assure himself that his partner had crawled into some cover. The foyer was a shambles, shattered furniture everywhere. Another gunman came barreling down a flight of stairs at the rear of the room, but his shots went wide. The accuracy of the two soldiers was much more precise, and the guard sank against the floor, mortally wounded. Murakoshi gestured to the flight of stairs and the three men quickly ascended them, taking the steps two or three at a time. Another gunman was waiting for them at the top, but the man hesitated a moment before shooting. The soldiers did not and the guard's head exploded across a white-paneled grand piano.

A sound alerted Murakoshi to the man charging across the music room towards him. Clad in swimming trunks and a mass of gold necklaces, the huge machete in the man's hand seemed ridiculous in this battle of guns and grenades. The Interpol agent almost shot the charging lunatic before he recognized the man. It was Juan Salazar. The soldiers had already recognized the drug lord and were holding their fire. It would be up to Murakoshi to subdue the criminal without killing him.

Screaming obscenities, Salazar swiped at Murakoshi, almost taking off the agent's ear. Murakoshi dodged to the side and pulled his body backwards as Salazar attempted to disembowel the Japanese with a swipe of the machete. The drug lord would not get another chance. Murakoshi slammed his pistol against the side of the man's head, metal crashing against Salazar's skull. The stunned Colombian dropped his weapon, sagging to the floor. Murakoshi glared down at the man. Now he would get some answers.

Salazar sat, tied to the back of one of his own ornately carved dining room chairs. Murakoshi and General Alcazar stood to either side of the villain. Once again, the Interpol agent questioned the drug lord.

'We know that you hired Dr. Shinji Mafune to develop your coca plants. He is the one behind all of the monster attacks in the last few months. Millions will die if he is not stopped.' Murakoshi shook his head, unable to understand a man who was not capable of being concerned with helping to prevent so many deaths. 'Tell us where Mafune is, how you contact him.'

Salazar sneered at the man he had tried to kill. 'You think I am hiding him?' The drug lord snorted his contempt. 'Yes, Mafune worked for me, and I paid him well for what he did. But he is not here. I haven't seen him in five years, or even heard where he might be found.' Salazar grew agitated by the unconvinced look on Murakoshi's face. 'You think I would protect him! How would that help me? How many times do I have to tell you that I do not know where he is? You want I should just make something up? Would that make you happy?'

Murakoshi turned away from the bound drug lord. He spoke in a low voice to General Alcazar. The mustachioed general kept his eyes on the drug lord as he listened to the Interpol agent's words.

'This has been a waste of time. He doesn't know anything. If he did, he would be trying to cut some sort of deal with us.' Murakoshi walked away, leaving the general with their prisoner.

Murakoshi stared at one of the excellent paintings hanging in Salazar's billiard room when a raised voice shouted from the kitchen 'Stop where you are, or I shoot!' Murakoshi ran back toward the room, hearing a single report sound before he had taken even a few steps. He arrived to see General Alcazar wiping blood from his tunic. Behind the general, Salazar's body sagged in the chair.

'I fear you must look elsewhere for this madman,' General Alcazar said regretfully. 'This lead has come to a dead end.'


	7. New York

Scourge 5 ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part V:

New York

John Latos stared grimly from the window of his penthouse suite in the skyscraper that was MARS' worldwide headquarters. His bull-necked secretary/bodyguard stood at a distance. Easily capable of snapping the old man's neck without breaking a sweat, there was still something about the MARS executive that intimidated the bodyguard. Latos turned away from his musings and snarled at the speaker phone resting inconspicuously on a crystal-topped coffee table.

'This business in San Francisco is about as bad as we could expect,' the old man stated.

'I am very sorry about your son,' the tinny voice came from the phone speaker.

'To Hell with that idiot!' snapped Latos. 'If not for his stupidity, we would not be in the position that we are in! The pollution in San Francisco is not the only fallout from his bungling! The government is searching our holdings with a fine tooth comb. Not so much as a cockroach is going to escape their scrutiny! As if we didn't have enough mud on our face from Vander Van Hise's handling of the Mechani-Kong debacle.'

'Then they have discovered our defenses in New York?' the tinny voice inquired.

'Of course not!' Latos declared. 'The weapon is being kept in a warehouse owned by one of our dummy corporations. There is nothing to link it back to us. New York will be safe enough from this lunatic's creations.' A thought suddenly occurred to Latos.

'Any success in finding this Dr. Mafune?'

'No, sir, he seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth.'

'That is hardly the truth of the matter,' sneered John Latos. 'I want this man found, and I want him found yesterday. You have two weeks to locate him, otherwise I will be forced to dismiss you.' Menace crept into the executive's voice. 'You do know what that means.' Latos cut off the sudden protest being voiced over the speaker. 'Find Mafune, don't bother contacting me again until you do.'

John Latos turned away from the speakerphone and returned his gaze to his towering view of lower Manhattan. 

Murakoshi walked into the Interpol building in Tokyo. The tip which had lead him to Salazar had gone nowhere. He was no closer to finding Dr. Mafune now than he had been before he had gone to Colombia. A dark spirit gripped Murakoshi as the police officer made his way toward his chief's office. As he closed the door behind him, Murakoshi met the older Interpol agent's gaze.

'Things went badly in Colombia?' the chief asked. Murakoshi nodded.

'The drug lords might have a few sleepless nights after what happened to Juan Salazar, but I did not find out anything that might lead us to Mafune.'

'I may have something for you then,' the chief smiled. He motioned for Murakoshi to come closer and lowered his voice.

'There is a man here who says that he can help us locate Mafune. He's an American and if my guess is right, probably CIA.'

'CIA?' Murakoshi asked, both startled and puzzled.

'It seems that the CIA may have used Mafune at a bio-weapons research project in Puerto Rico,' the chief replied.

'Why have they been silent until now?'

'The CIA is very secretive, beyond the point of paranoia. Even the American government isn't informed of everything the agency does. My guess is that they were going to deny all association with Dr. Mafune.'

'What changed their mind?'

'Last week Anguirus attacked an American city. Before, Mafune was the rest of the world's problem. Now it is the United States' as well.'

Murakoshi considered that statement for a long time. Finally he nodded his head. 'Okay, where is this American?'

The Dutch freighter slid slowly through the waters of New York's East River. The ship's captain was somewhat jubilant that the long voyage across the North Atlantic was at last at an end. There was a certain young lady in Brooklyn he was eager to see again. The months at sea had been very long, and very lonely.

The freighter suddenly rocked violently. The captain swore a colorful Dutch phrase and glared at his first mate. The man looked back at his captain with an innocent look on his face. They were too far from the waterfront to have struck land, and the mate was certain they had not struck another ship. The freighter shook again, this time spilling the men on the bridge to the deck. As the captain picked himself up, he screamed. Visible through the windows was the cause of the ship's jostling, a cause that was beyond belief!

The huge warty creature trumpeted a gurgling roar as he waded away from the still rocking Dutch ship. Titanosaurus ignored the police launches that closed in upon him, desperately trying to drive him away with small arms fire and concentrated blasts from water cannons. The attacks were less than biting insects to the huge dinosaur, and beyond his notice. The giant beast lumbered onwards towards the teeming metropolis that towered before him, its streets teeming with tiny creatures that were as yet unaware of the doom which threatened them. 

'The sea monster?' Latos asked the disembodied voice speaking to him from the speaker. 'I was hoping the lunatic would try and repeat his London strategy. He will find that MARS is ready for him this time. Have Harker in the control room at once. I want Mechatron at full operating readiness before Titanosaurus can trample too much of my city.'

Latos stared out of the window in the direction of the river. He could barely see the monster that was even now emerging onto the streets of the city. Police helicopters could be seen buzzing about, no doubt on their way to engage the beast. It would be some time yet before National Guard and Air Force squadrons arrived. By that time, Latos was certain, MARS would have dealt with this threat. It would go far to healing the black eye suffered by MARS following the San Francisco disaster.

'Oh,' Latos said as an afterthought, ' tell Harker that if Esposito's Deli is harmed, he is fired. It is so hard to find a good pastrami sandwich.'

The reptilian behemoth stomped his way through the narrow streets of the city, crushing the metal chariots of Detroit beneath his feet. Sirens blared from the tops of buildings, the unfamiliar mechanical shriek heralding the monster's advance as surely as Titanosaurus' own trumpeting bellows. Fires burned where the dinosaur's footfalls had ruptured gas mains or chanced to ignite the petrol tanks of service stations. Screaming mobs of humanity scattered at the monster's approach, crushing countless hundreds in the press so great was the panic. A police helicopter drew too close to Titanosaurus, its heavy machine gun making enough noise to annoy the towering beast. Titanosaurus blasted it from the sky with a cyclonic gale from his mouth, smashing the vehicle's remains into the upper floors of a glass-faced skyscraper.

The monster's rampage continued unchecked. Nothing, it seemed, could save Manhattan. It would take some time for the US military to mobilize and combat the horrific beast, precious minutes which meant the difference between life and death for countless New Yorkers.

Titanosaurus bellowed again, a sound of triumph, like the echo of the primordial past resurgent. The sound rattled windows and caused grown men to clamp their hands to their ears to defend against the awful sound. But Titanosaurus' cry did not go unanswered.

The warehouse building's roof exploded as the titan it had housed rose from its slumber. The red and white metal gleamed dully in the smoggy sunlight as the giant machine sat upright and began to rise. Panicked shrieks sounded from the mob that had retreated in the direction of the warehouse, desperately looking for a new avenue of escape, a path away from both Titanosaurus and the adversary that had appeared to confront the dinosaur.

The robot gained its feet and slowly lumbered toward Titanosaurus, smashing through the walls of the warehouse. It was like a demented general's vision of the future, a tank given human form. The robot's torso was a dull red, box like, its armored surface angled to deflect shells and projectiles. The robot's body was supported by two thick, rectangular legs, rising from the ground like trees of steel. Massive rectangular arms hung from either shoulder, each terminating in a long-barreled cannon. An array of missile tubes rose from either shoulder. In the very center of the robot's chest, a crackling field of electricity danced across a black rectangle of brightly polished metal. The robot's head was also a thing of angles, utterly devoid of nature's handiwork. A slit-like visor acted as the robot's eyes, two antenna at either side of its wedge-shaped head acting as ears. 

Far away, in the very bowels of the MARS corporation's New York headquarters, the robot's operator sat, his body encased in a tight-fitting bodyglove called a neuro-suit. Electrical receptors in the suit fed Harker's movements to the robot while a visor worn over the man's head duplicated the video imaging system mounted on the robot, providing both man and machine a view of the battlefield. Harker allowed himself a smile. After so many years, it was time to finally put the technology to its ultimate test. It was time to give Mechatron his baptism of fire.

Titanosaurus stared at the towering robot, his simple reptilian brain trying to decide if the machine was friend or foe. By nature a peaceful creature, the dinosaur's lack of aggression left the opening move to the machine. Mechatron was not slow in seizing the opportunity. The robot's massive cannons rose, taking aim at the green and red amphibian. Flame roared from the cannons as shells larger than those fired by any battleship struck Titanosaurus. The dinosaur howled in pain as the round exploded against his thick scaly hide. Two hideous wounds wept from the monster's sides. For a moment, Titanosaurus began to back away. But the urge would not be denied.

Mechatron's guns sounded again, gouging fresh wounds in Titanosaurus. The giant dinosaur waded through the fusillade, his blood drenching the streets. The dinosaur roared again, blasting the huge robot with his gale-force cyclone attack. The robot did not move, though all about it, men and cars were sent flying, some even striking Mechatron, leaving dents and stains on its armor. The robot replied with a salvo of missiles. The projectiles slammed into Titanosaurus, but had less effect than the huge cannons. It was an error in tactics which the dinosaur exploited.

Titanosaurus slammed his long powerful tail into Mechatron, forcing the robot to give ground to the huge dinosaur. Mechatron's mammoth feet pulverized asphalt and concrete with every step, leaving holes large enough to swallow school busses with every step the robot took. The dinosaur's tail continued to batter the machine. But it only took Mechatron's controller a few moments to react to his mistake, and to correct it.

From the top of Mechatron's head, from a small prism-like device, a beam of light lashed out at the monster. An improved Tesla Ray, the laser sliced through the flesh of Titanosaurus' tail, severing its tip. The dinosaur shrieked again in pain, retreating away from this new weapon of his futuristic foe. The robot followed after him, its targeting arrays already sending further blasts to slice into the dinosaur's legs and chest. Titanosaurus bellowed again, trying once more to blast his mechanical enemy with his cyclonic breath. Again, the massive robot was unfazed by the tremendous winds.

In the control room, Harker gloated at Mechatron's power, at the robot's absolute control over the conflict. If he pressed his attack with the Tesla Ray, the dinosaur would surely fall. But the robot's controller was more interested in testing his machine than besting his enemy. Harker decided that he would test Mechatron's sonic field to see what manner of effect it would have upon the fading dinosaur.

A high-pitched warble sounded from Mechatron's chest. The sound was at once a low-frequency dirge beyond human hearing, and an eerie shriek of shredding metal. The sonic attack was designed to slaughter human infantry that thought to attack the mechanized soldier. Its effect on the huge dinosaur was nothing less than tortuous. Titanosaurus fell as if pole-axed, writhing on the ground in agony, crashing into buildings in his painful spasm. 

In the control room, Harker noted the sonic attack's extreme effectiveness. But he had other weapons systems to test. He ceased the hideous whine emanating from Mechatron, instead readying the crackling energy weapon housed in the robot's chest.

As soon as the sonic wail ended, the wounded dinosaur stopped thrashing. Titanosaurus did not rise, but scuttled away on all fours, scrambling away from his robotic adversary. Pain throbbed in each of the monster's many nerve centers, flooding his primitive brain with agony. The huge robot pursed the fleeing dinosaur, but Mechatron could not match the frenzied pace of the injured dinosaur. Pain had overcome Mafune's command, and Titanosaurus fled back toward the water, associating the cool Atlantic depths with the soothing of his suffering.

The giant dinosaur reached the bank of the river, leaping into it like a gigantic frog. Mechatron's energy beam burned the waters just as Titanosaurus sank beneath the surface, sending a column of steam to join the smoggy clouds high above the city. Harker was distressed that the monster had not remained to field test the robot's other weapons. Still, Mechatron had performed admirably; a fact which even John Latos would be forced to admit. 

The robot stood silent, facing the bubbling, boiling water of the East River, before turning and slowly, carefully, negotiating its way back into the city.

Dr. Mafune glared down into the huge crater which served as lair to his giant creations. He could see Titanosaurus, licking painfully at his many wounds. The healing process had begun. Inside a week, Mafune's monster would be back into fighting shape. It was not the monster's injuries which upset the scientist. It was the monster's failure.

'Think they can stop me, do they?' the scientist raged. 'They think their machines can save them? Hah, they are only machines, what can they really do!' Mafune stared at his four 'children' and a maniacal smile spread across his face. 'I'll show them what you can really do!' Mafune let his eyes linger on Titanosaurus and the gaping wounds in the monster's scaly flesh.

'We will just let Titanosaurus heal from his battle,' the scientist said, almost affectionately. 'Then, I will send all of you. We'll attack their headquarters in Tokyo, let those fools in New York know what is going to happen to them! We'll see how safe they feel after you're through!' The scientist began laughing, drawing the momentary attention of Baragon. Hisses from the scaly throats of Anguirus and Gorosaurus caused the ravenous predator to settle down.

'Heal quickly!' Mafune told Titanosaurus. 'Your work is almost complete!'

Titanosaurus let his long purple tongue caress the edge of a wound in his left arm.

Rodan sat atop the dormant volcano, his beak probing the pockmark scar left by one of the quills fired by Anguirus. The giant pterosaur cackled, a low, menacing sound. There was an almost human quality to the monster's uttering, a promise of retribution and revenge. It was a sound which did not go unheard. Standing on the shore of Ogasawara Island, like a black mountain, the moonlight shining off his wet scales, Godzilla turned his eyes to the volcano and the disturbing sounds uttered by his most unnatural 'brother'. A low growl rumbled in Godzilla's throat as he listened to Rodan's fury more with his mind than with his ears. Linked psychically, the two monsters could understand what one another was feeling. It was a rude form of communication, built from emotions rather than words or thoughts. Still, for the two radioactive monsters, it was enough.

Godzilla stared at one of the long white spines Rodan had plucked from his flesh and discarded on the beach. The titan lowered his head toward the sands, sniffing the quill, taking in its scent, the lingering essence of the creature that had injured Rodan. 

In the command center, deep underground, a troubled Miki Saegusa spoke with Dr. Otani.

'I think you should request that the UNGCC and perhaps GARD as well deploy some forces around Ogasawara,' the young psychic told the scientist. Dr. Otani met her tremulous gaze with a look of alarm and concern.

'Is something going to happen? You feel something?' the head of the Ogasawara project asked.

'Something is going to happen, I know,' Miki Saegusa looked all around the command center, as if trying to catch some vision of coming events in the lifeless terminals and monitors. 'Ever since Rodan returned to the island, I have felt the tremendous rage emanating from him.'

'Rodan could hardly be called a welcome guest in the best of times,' Dr. Otani said, trying to lighten the mood. 'Maybe this will keep him from straying away again.' Even as he said it, Dr. Otani knew he was just expressing blatantly wishful thinking.

'No, if anything, it will cause him to leave again, to seek out Anguirus. What is troubling me is that Godzilla is connected to Rodan, psychically they are brothers. Some of Rodan's rage is feeding into Godzilla.'

A dark look came over Dr. Otani's face.

'And we all know what happens when Godzilla gets angry,' he said, letting the words linger. As if to punctuate his comment, the sound of Rodan's cackle sounded from a nearby speaker.


	8. Tokyo

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part VI:

Tokyo

'The Americans are still analyzing the battle in New York,' Major Hideki reported to a dour Commander Aso. The older Japanese officer shook his head.

'I take it that they have had no luck in finding this robot that was used to drive off Titanosaurus?'

'No, the machine, they call it Mechatron, has completely vanished. MARS admits designing the thing, but deny any sort of responsibility or knowledge that the robot had actually been constructed.'

Commander Aso snorted his contempt for the claims of MARS. 'I would expect them to take such a position.'

'Without the robot itself to study, the Americans are working largely on guesswork derived from survivors who witnessed the combat. Apparently, Mechatron threw everything at Titanosaurus except the kitchen sink. They are still trying to decide what attack was most effective and what finally drove the monster off.' Major Hideki bowed to his commanding officer and turned to leave Commander Aso's UNGCC office.

'Why would MARS deny knowledge of the robot?' Commander Aso mused.

'Sir?' Major Hideki responded.

'They drove off the monster. They saved the city. Why would they try to distance themselves from receiving praise for their actions?' Commander Aso wondered. Then an idea came to the old military officer.

'What if MARS was in some way responsible for Titanosaurus attacking New York in the first place?' Commander Aso looked over to Major Hideki. 'Check the other cities Mafune's monsters have attacked. See if there were any MARS owned properties which were destroyed. I have an idea that Mafune is not targeting cities for destruction. He is targeting MARS.'

A pallor crept into major Hideki's face. 'Sir, some of the UNGCC's weapons have been designed by MARS! They have a headquarters in Tokyo!'

Leathery eyelids snapped open. Rodan lifted his head and let a deep hiss seep from his fanged beak. The giant pterosaur could sense the presence of his enemy, near yet far away. Cackling his wrath, Rodan spread his massive wings and rose into the noonday sky. The terrible beast did not circle Ogasawara Island, as was his usual pattern, but instead flew in a northward direction. The flotilla of cruisers and destroyers, both American and Japanese, that had answered Dr. Otani's plea for military aid fired upon the flying monster. The enormous shells were woefully incapable of striking the swift moving target and the cruise missiles that impacted against Rodan's scaly hide proved equally incapable of downing the monster. Unhindered by the weapons of man, Rodan flew into the distant horizon.

In the command center, deep beneath the surface of the island, Dr. Otani watched as the flying monster left. The scientist shook his head, already imagining the incredible carnage the fiend would wreck this time. Dr. Otani looked over at the young psychic, Miki Saegusa, who slumped in a nearby chair, her brow drenched in sweat. The woman had tried to reach into Rodan's mind, tried to prevent the monster from leaving the island. But she did not share the same kind of empathy with the mutant pterosaur as she did with Godzilla. Rodan's feral mind was a strange and hostile place. Despite her best efforts, the psychic had not been able to hinder Rodan in the slightest.

'He senses Anguirus,' Miki gasped, trying to regain both her strength and her composure. 'I tried, but I could not stop him.' The young psychic closed her eyes, her head dropping to her chest.

'You did what you could,' Dr. Otani said, his voice soft and soothing. Professor Kashiwagi had warned both of them that whatever hold Miki had over Godzilla was unlikely to extend to the monster's aerial 'brother', yet it had been a risk both of them felt was worth the taking. Indeed, Dr. Otani had considered Miki's talents much less of a long shot than the multi-national navy now anchored off the island. As it had turned out, both long shots had failed.

Suddenly, the napping psychic awoke, her eyes wide with alarm. 'Godzilla is moving!' she announced.

'What?' Dr. Otani exclaimed in alarm.

'He is following Rodan,' Miki explained. 'I can't stop him, the effort of trying to stop Rodan was too much. I am sorry, I don't have enough strength to hold him, to keep him from following his brother.' 

Visions of destruction and death appeared in Dr. Otani's mind. When Rodan had battled Anguirus, most of Moscow had been destroyed. How much greater would the carnage be if Godzilla's awesome strength was added into the conflict? What great city would suffer this time? Hong Kong? Peking? Seoul?

'Tokyo,' two tiny voices said in unison. Dr. Otani opened his eyes to see Professor Miura standing nearby. Hovering in the air between Miura and Otani was a giant moth, the size of a falcon, its fuzzy body glowing with a soft golden light. Upon the fairy Mothra's back rode the tiny twin priestesses of the ancient goddess.

'The monsters are all converging upon Tokyo,' the Shobijin announced. 

'The man with great pain has sent all of his creatures to destroy his enemy in Tokyo,' Moll said.

'Rodan and Godzilla have sensed the other monsters and have gone to fight them,' Lora declared, nodding her head. 

'All six monsters are heading for Tokyo?' Professor Miura asked. Both of the Cosmos nodded their heads in unison. 

'We can't even keep Godzilla and Rodan from escaping this island,' Dr. Otani's voice choked. 'How can we stop six monsters from destroying Tokyo? The defense forces can barely repel a single monster, much less a horde of them!'

The Shobijin stared at the two scientists. Their faces were as grim as those of the two men. Moll and Lora met each other's gaze. A firm resolved smile set across Moll's face.

'The enemy will try to stop the pained man's creatures, but only even greater destruction will result from it.' Moll sighed heavily. 'We will ask Mothra to help.'

'Will she?' Professor Miura asked, concern warring with excitement for control of his voice.

'She is still very weak from the battle with King Ghidorah,' commented Lora, uncertainty in her voice.

'Yes, Mothra is very weak from the battle,' Moll agreed. 'She won't be able to defeat Godzilla or Rodan. But she may be able to force them to leave the city. The other creatures, too.'

'Mothra can do this?' marveled Professor Miura.

'Oh yes,' the Cosmos said in unison. 'Mothra has many powers to affect the will of other creatures. She can very easily convince the other creatures to leave the city. But it will take much of her energy and it will take her some time to do this. If the other monsters attack her while she is trying to speak with their minds, she may not be able to do it at all.'

'It is really our only hope,' Dr. Otani decided.

'Please,' Professor Miura said, 'will you ask Mothra to help us, this one more time?'

The fleet of yachts and small fishing boats moored to the pier were hurled into the air as the water beneath them exploded. A gurgling bellow sounded across Tokyo Bay as a giant, warty-skinned beast rose from below the water. Titanosaurus roared again, his trumpeting howl drowning out the roar of the civil defense sirens, calling the people of Tokyo to seek out the dubious safety of the city's manner bunker-like shelters. Missile and shore-defense batteries fired on the huge aquatic beast, but the weapons only succeeded in annoying the giant dinosaur. Left to his own devices, Titanosaurus would have retreated from the stinging attack, but another will had imposed itself over his own. Titanosaurus loomed over the JSDF forces and let his fanged jaws open to their fullest extent. A gout of hurricane-force wind smashed into the defenders of Tokyo, blasting soldiers and cannons into the streets of the city, huge howitzers toppling end-over-end like steel tumbleweeds. Titanosaurus bellowed again and leapt from the bay and onto Tokyo's waterfront district.

Deeper in Tokyo, buildings trembled and shook, glass shattered and rained upon the fleeing hordes making their way to the subterranean shelters. One group of citizens had nearly reached the yawning cavity of the rampway leading to the shelter for their district when the street buckled and the concrete shelter rose into the air before crumbling into ruin. A bright light shone for an instant, then a deep and terrible roar which echoed from the artificial canyons of the city. A cry of terror rose from the mob of refugees and frightened people ran in all directions, heedless of those who fell in the panic, those who were trampled beneath the press of horrified bodies. All the world remembered the terrible destruction of Paris and the horrible roar of the fiend who had devoured so many innocent people. 

Baragon leapt from his burrow, an armored brown shape that landed in the midst of the screaming crowd, crushing hundreds beneath his awesome weight. The huge ears on either side of his almost canine face rose as his head darted from side-to-side, yellow eyes seeking out prey. Baragon snapped at the mob of people, raising his head to swallow a mouthful of writhing, doomed bodies. Baragon's hunger was insatiable, overcoming even the urge to destroy that fought against him. Now, the people of Tokyo would learn what it was to be the bottom of the food chain.

From Baragon's massive tunnel, two other enormous reptilian shapes lumbered into the open air. The gray-and-black shape of Gorosaurus was first, the theropod's wedge-shaped head craning to either side on his powerful neck, trying to spy the target of his master's wrath. Behind the mutant theropod, the armored Anguirus scuttled into view. Anguirus let a low, howl-like bark announce his presence before scrambling through the maze-like streets, heedless of the buildings he damaged in his progress or the debris which rained down on his spiky shell. Gorosaurus lumbered after Anguirus, content to follow the horned dinosaur's lead.

In the Hachiman building, headquarters of the MARS corporation's Japanese enterprises, in a dark, windowless room, a lone man sat. Wires and cables connected the man to a massive machine. The man's eyes were closed, his posture indicating sleep or meditation.

'The monsters are here!' a tinny voice screamed from a nearby intercom. The man's eyes snapped open at once.

'Finally,' Tetsuo thought. Like his counterpart in New York, Tetsuo was eager to put the technology of MARS to the test.

As Anguirus and Gorosaurus drew closer to the towering glass-faced monolith that was the Hachiman building, a high-pitched electronic whine split the air. The massive parking building beside the corporate offices of MARS crumbled, destroyed from within, the concrete crashing to the ground, causing a cloud of dust to explode into the air. The uncanny and seemingly spontaneous destruction caused Anguirus and his companion to stop. The urge still drove the two monsters on, but it was tempered now by a cautious wariness. The two reptilian titans tried to pierce the dirty brown fog, but their vision was not equal to the task. 

A fiery blue beam of light lashed out from the cloud of dust, striking Gorosaurus. The theropod roared in pain, the violence of the beam knocking the dinosaur to the ground, devastating a row of restaurants and discos. Anguirus barked at the unseen attack, scrambling forward to engage this enemy. The dust suddenly lifted, the enemy stood revealed and the mutant ankylosaurus was momentarily stunned by the awesome sight of it.

The steel titan was enormous, over 60 meters of armor plated killing machine. Massive maser beam weapons acted as the robot's arms, a screen of black metal on its chest crackled with electricity. The dull white and gray machine took a step forward, before emitting a deep electronic warble. The sound was like a machine-copied lion's roar. The deadly weapons on the robot's arms aimed toward Anguirus, and fired. The resulting explosion nearly caught the fleet-footed dinosaur. Already, the robot was correcting its aim, allowing for its prey's unexpected swiftness.

The machine was called Cybricon, the second-generation of the technology which had resulted in its 'sister' dreadnought, Mechatron. The overall shape was identical to its earlier model, though the severe angles of Mechatron had here been curved, made more streamlined. Cybricon's form suggested some horrible twenty-first century samurai, and its dull red visor of an eye seemed to glare from the midst of a shogun's helm. 

Anguirus charged the awesome machine, racing toward it, beneath the second devastating salvo of maser fire. The dinosaur barreled into the robot's legs, smashing into the armored plate. Anguirus closed his jaws about Cybricon's left leg, trying to wrench the limb from its socket. The dinosaur did not understand that its enemy was not alive, did not understand the tremendous force needed to twist the machine apart. He was frustrated by the inability of his teeth to sink into the cold metal skin of the robot, but rather than give up the attack, Anguirus tried all the harder, snapping several fangs as he exerted even more pressure with his jaws.

'No, monster,' Tetsuo laughed, 'you will not make a meal of us!' A thought from the robot's controller sent a surge of electricity coursing through Cybricon's hull, shocking the dinosaur monster clamped to its leg. At the same time, Gorosaurus rose from the ground, charging toward the giant weapon. Missile batteries above and below the crackling energy plate savaged the theropod, forcing Gorosaurus to abort his attack. The gray-scaled dinosaur snarled and bellowed, even as Cybricon's heavy metal foot kicked the stunned Anguirus from its feet. The killing machine stalked forward, its expressionless face unreadable. Deep within the Hachiman building, however, a maniacal smile spread across the face of Tetsuo.

'That is right,' the robot's controller mocked the two dinosaurs, 'you cannot harm us. But we can harm you!'

The crackling field of electricity dancing across the robot's chest became even more frantic, even more frenzied in its erratic movements. The speed of the dancing light seemed to increase. Then, Cybricon released the full fury of its most potent weapon. The electro-magnetic pulse, dubbed the 'Omega Storm' by the machine's designers, quickly spread away from the robot's chest. The destructive wave of force was visible only as a slight distortion in the air, like the hazy image of heat rising from a summer highway. The havoc it wrecked was all too visible. The Omega Storm's area of effect spread, until it had ravaged an area equal to four miles in a range of roughly 180 degrees from the robot. Buildings did not crumble under the assault, they exploded, brick and concrete shattering like glass, steel warping and twisting like wax candles. Anguirus and Gorosaurus were hurled hundreds of meters by the EPM weapon. Both dinosaurs were slow to regain their feet, dark blood flowing from their mouths and noses, from the corners of their eyes and the openings of their ears. Gorosaurus trembled, struggling to free himself from the carcass of an office building. Anguirus was only slightly faster in his recovery, barking his rage at the unmoving titan. The black plate on Cybricon's chest began to glow as the dancing electricity began to gather itself for another discharge.

But the second attack never came. Suddenly, a tremendous mass struck the huge robot from behind, knocking the awesome machine to the ground. A high-pitched, gurgling roar trumpeted across Tokyo. Titanosaurus battered the fallen machine with his long, powerful tail, caving in sections of hull plate and crippling several of the masers mounted on Cybricon's arms. Soon, Titanosaurus was joined by Anguirus, the armored monster charging into the robot's head, battering it with his crown of horns like a bull savaging a matador. Gorosaurus finally joined his fellow dinosaurs, leaping high into the air to drop down onto Cybricon's back, the dinosaur's tremendous weight further warping and damaging the machine's armored body.

In the Hachiman building, Tetsuo screamed in pain. The agony Cybricon's controller felt was imaginary, entirely psychosomatic. The computer genius had considered the massive weapon an extension of himself, a body more real than the flesh and blood one which now writhed in pain. Cybricon was a machine, incapable of any manner of emotion or sensation. His frail controller, however, could experience the robot's injuries for it.

Suddenly, the three super-saurs were engulfed in a massive shock wave, the blast blowing all three away from the toppled robot. The three dinosaurs looked skyward to see a giant shape circling overhead. Rodan cackled as he flew above Dr. Mafune's monsters, a cry of challenge, a call for revenge. Rodan met the gaze of the defiant Anguirus. With another hate-ridden screech, Rodan dove downwards, plummeting from the heavens to smite his foe upon the ground.

Murakoshi descended the mobile stairway. The tropical atmosphere of Costa Rica was humid and had a peculiar smell to it. Murakoshi had only a moment to take in his surroundings before the press of the other passengers leaving the plane forced him to proceed downwards to the tarmac.

The CIA agent had told Murakoshi much about his quarry. Dr. Mafune was an unqualified genius, if any further evidence was needed beyond the four enormous monsters that were ravaging the earth. The few 'experiments' the CIA representative had discussed with the Interpol agent were incredible, and chilling. The last trace the CIA had of Mafune's whereabouts placed the mad man in Costa Rica. That had been only a year ago. It was the closest thing Murakoshi had yet to find that might be considered a recent sighting.

The Interpol agent stared across the crowd of people gathered on the tarmac, people awaiting the disembarking passengers and new passengers waiting to board. For an instant, one figure stood out in the mostly Latino and Caucasian crowd. Murakoshi thought he saw a Chinese man, garbed in black, a white silk cravat around his neck, a pair of dark sunglasses hiding the man's eyes. Murakoshi thought that he saw the man smile at him, but when he looked for the man again, he was gone.

'Sir, Tokyo is being hit harder than we could have imagined,' the tinny voice reported from the speaker in John Latos' lavish office. The CEO of MARS stared out of the penthouse window, watching the enormous efforts of the National Guard to clear away the debris from Titanosaurus' attack.

'What is worse, Cybricon was damaged in the initial attack,' the voice continued. 'The monster Rodan has also appeared, although he seems more interested in attacking Mafune's monsters than bothering the city, or us.'

'Tell Harker to ready Mechatron,' John Latos' crackling voice drawled. 'Have Mechatron sent to Tokyo to assist Cybricon. If Mafune has committed all of his creations to this attack, then this gives us our best chance to end this unpleasantness once and for all.'

Within five minutes of John Latos' decree, a huge oil tanker moored off the coast of Rio de Janeiro was a scene of frantic activity. Workers scrambled to unlock the huge doors concealed as the hatches to the ship's great oil tanks. There were no oil tanks; indeed, the old tanker had been secretly rebuilt to serve an altogether different purpose. As the huge doors parted, the dull red form of Mechatron rose from his mobile hangar. The robot's jets lifted it into the air and before any elements of the Brazilian air force could arrive to investigate the strange and enormous object on their radar, the robot was already gone, speeding across the South American continent at a velocity far beyond human endurance.

Baragon howled again as his jaws closed about the speeding train. The evacuating people inside had thought to escape the rampaging brute, but instead, their flight had led them right into the monster's jaws. The ravenous fiend's fangs punctured the steel train car, shredding the side of the train. Baragon's thick, slimy tongue probed the cavity his fangs had opened, slamming into screaming refugees, dislodging some from their desperate grips on the train's seats, hatches and windows. Those displaced slid into the monster's mouth, and continued to plummet down his throat, swallowed alive and screaming.

Baragon finally decided that there was no more food to be had within the train car. He released his grip on the savaged commuter train, letting the vehicle crash to earth some hundred feet below. Most of those who had managed to elude Baragon's probing tongue were killed in the fall. The horrible monster howled again, sniffing the air for some sign of edible life, perhaps another train, or another underground shelter which the monster could burrow into and feast upon.

A blast of silvery-blue flame slammed into Baragon. The dinosaur was sent flying by the sudden blast, crashing into a towering high rise. Baragon shook the rubble from his armored back, snarling in rage, his ears alternately rising and pressing against the sides of his head as he tried to detect some sign of his attacker. A second blast of atomic fire smashed into the ravenous brute and a terrible, malevolent shriek ravaged Baragon's ears.

Godzilla emerged from behind a row of darkened buildings. He roared again, his voice filled with wrath. Baragon stared at the much larger monster, his own roar tremulous and somehow uncertain. Godzilla's shriek removed any question. He was not one of Baragon's comrades. And Baragon would not be satisfying his fearsome hunger with the flesh of the people of Tokyo any longer.

Godzilla stomped toward Baragon. For his part, Baragon reared onto his own hind legs, his roar more brutish, the uncertainty gone. Godzilla was not another of Mafune's creations. That meant that, as far as Baragon was concerned, the black-scaled leviathan was nothing more than food. The brute's tiny brain raced with thoughts of so much flesh. Baragon grinned, his huge mouth gaping wide. He would dine upon this strange creature's meat. Then he would seek out another of the bunker-like shelters. 


	9. A Time of Battles

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part VII:

A Time of Battles

Baragon opened his massive jaws, a blast of searing flame shooting from the deep recesses of the monster's throat to strike the black-scaled giant looming before him. The flames did not so much as singe Godzilla's hide, their intense heat nothing compared to the nuclear inferno coursing through Godzilla's veins. Still, the attack did surprise Godzilla, catching the atomic dragon off guard. Godzilla withdrew from his enemy, taking a pair of tenuous steps backward.

Baragon's eyes narrowed as he watched Godzilla retreat from his fire. The ravenous beast took the action to be a sign of weakness, and anything that was weaker than him was prey. Baragon dropped to all fours again. Bracing himself, the monster's powerful leg muscles tensed. Even as Godzilla recovered from his surprise, the shell-backed dinosaur beast launched himself from his crouch, his massive bulk slamming into that of Godzilla.

The impact of the huge burrowing monster against Godzilla's body caused the larger monster to topple backwards, his massive bulk crashing through the foundation of a towering skyscraper. Baragon howled triumphantly, slashing at Godzilla's leg with his horn. The wicked dinosaur did not notice the enormous scaly mass beneath his body, the muscular length of Godzilla's tail. As Baragon slashed at Godzilla's leg, that tail erupted into violent activity, rippling with the speed and fury of a whip and sending the floppy-eared dinosaur sailing into the air. Baragon landed almost a mile away, his huge weight crashing into the street and creating a deep impact crater.

Both monsters rose from their falls. Godzilla roared his wrath, gazing across the ravaged city for his enemy. Baragon howled, crawling from the dust and debris of the crater, pain warring with hunger for mastery of his frame. As the burrowing monster's eyes spotted Godzilla advancing toward him, hunger again took control of the evil brute. Tensing himself again, Baragon leaped across the ruins to strike his foe. In mid-leap, a blast of silvery fire struck the reptile, hurling Baragon away from his intended target. The monster struck the ground, his armored back sliding across the very rubble his earlier depredations had created. Godzilla's atomic flame chased after Baragon's body, sending debris shooting into the sky as Godzilla attempted to connect with his foe, all the while slowly advancing upon the mutant dinosaur.

Baragon lifted himself from the rubble of a department store, his huge ears pressed against the back of his head. Baragon lifted his head only slightly, his keen vision sighting Godzilla stomping towards him just as Godzilla's ray stormed towards Baragon's head. A building behind Baragon exploded as the radioactive beam connected with masonry instead of flesh. Baragon barked in sudden fright. Having felt that powerful beam, he had no interest in repeating the experience. Baragon waited, watching as Godzilla drew still closer. Then, roaring, the monster charged from the sheltering rubble.

Godzilla paused, shrieking at the horned monster who thought to attack him. Godzilla prepared to meet Baragon's charge. He was not prepared for what did happen. As the floppy-eared beast scrambled forward, the horn on Baragon's nose suddenly gave off a brilliant light. Godzilla reared away from the blinding glare, his vision momentarily flooded by the after-image of the flash. Godzilla roared angrily as his sight slowly returned. He looked around for his enemy, but saw only the tip of a brown, leathery tail retreating into the mouth of a newly dug burrow. Godzilla roared again, but his roar did not coax Baragon from his subterranean tunnel. Baragon knew that he would not be able to defeat such a powerful foe and like any sensible creature, he was not staying around to finish a lost fight.

Godzilla waited for a few moments to see if Baragon would reappear. Deciding that the burrowing monster was well and truly gone, Godzilla turned away from the gaping hole and began to march deeper into the heart of Tokyo.

The shock wave of Rodan's descent knocked Anguirus over, pitching the giant beast across the ravaged terrain. Rodan cackled evilly as he unleashed a steady barrage of crackling uranium rays. The deadly energy beams blasted huge holes in the asphalt and blackened the spiky shell on Anguirus' back when they struck him. Anguirus howled in turn, launching a salvo of tail spikes at his tormenter. This time, Rodan was expecting such an attack from his enemy. The flying monster dove below the quills, slashing Anguirus' unarmored neck with his talons as he flew past. Cackling once more, the giant pterosaur circled around to make a second attack.

Rodan's fiery beams again ravaged Anguirus, even as the monster scrambled forward in a desperate attempt to latch his jaws about the flying monster. The beams mostly struck his spiky shell, but several scored hits on the softer flesh of Anguirus' neck, causing the monster to howl in pain. Rodan noticed the difference, circling for a third pass, the flying monster slowed to an almost leisurely pace, trading speed for greater accuracy. Rodan sent a beam of uranium energy searing into the wound he had torn in Anguirus' neck. Anguirus flipped onto his back, rolling across the ground in a spasm of pain. Rodan cackled again, but his victory was not to be.

Vice-like jaws closed upon Rodan's foot, tearing the pterosaur from the sky. Gorosaurus crashed back to earth, sinking deep into the ground as he completed his jump. The theropod's powerful neck muscles joined the force of gravity in dashing Rodan against the earth, Gorosaurus' powerful jaws releasing their grip upon Rodan's foot when the monster had done all he could to increase the force of Rodan's impact. Rodan struck the ground, sinking into a twenty-meter deep crater created by the incredible impact. The giant pterosaur's body twitched painfully, his leathery wings bent across his body like a shroud. 

Rodan let a painful cry pass his beak, slowly trying to lift himself from the crater. A long, powerful tail smashed across the flying monster's back, ending the effort. Titanosaurus trumpeted his gurgling roar and continued to batter the fallen monster with his long, finned tail. Gorosaurus uttered his own deep-throated roar, rearing back on his tail to kick at Rodan with both of his powerful legs. Howling his own wrathful bark, Anguirus recovered himself and charged across the ruins to batter Rodan with his horned head and savage the monster's wing with his sharp fangs.

Unnoticed by any of the dinosaurs, closer to the Hachiman Building, a toppled giant of steel slowly rose to its feet. Cybricon stood motionless, as if content to watch the battle. In truth, the damaged machine was waiting. The news had reached Tetsuo. Help was on its way. When Mechatron arrived, all of the monsters would taste the wrath of MARS.

Murakoshi and the CIA agent were ushered into the decrepit-looking warehouse by a scruffy, bearded Guatemalan dressed in a threadbare set of military fatigues. The Interpol agent looked at his American counterpart as they were shown into the almost empty building.

'You are sure that these men know where Dr. Mafune is?' he asked under his breath. The CIA agent shrugged his shoulders.

'We know that they were paying Mafune for his services before the failed coup d'être in Panama,' the spy said, the face below his sunglasses still expressionless. The two agents were led deeper into the warehouse, toward a table. A large man dressed in a tan uniform was seated behind the table. The bearded face beneath the man's peaked cap was not a friendly one. Murakoshi at once recognized the man as Colonel Mendoza, a reactionary rebel who had attempted to overthrow the government of Panama two months ago. 

'What brings you two gen'lmen to see me in my humble home, eh?' the Colonel smiled.

'I think you already know, otherwise we would not have gotten this far,' the CIA agent stated, his face still expressionless.

'I think you should show me some money, gringo,' Colonel Mendoza snapped his fingers. Five more fatigue-wearing men stepped out of the shadows, each holding an AK-47. 'Nothing is free in dis world, you know?' the fat man laughed. The CIA agent took the brown leather valise from Murakoshi and set it on the table before the obese revolutionary. Mendoza leaned forward and opened the case. Greasy hands caressed the stacks of bills inside, fanning them as if to make certain that each and every slip of paper was indeed and actual monetary note.

'American dollars!' Colonel Mendoza laughed. 'You think you can buy anything for American dollars!' Colonel Mendoza pulled the small pistol at his belt and with a single motion put the muzzle just below the CIA agent's sunglasses. 'I did pretty well under the General! If you people hadn't deposed him and arrested him, I wouldn't be living in toilets like this!' The spy's expressionless face gave way to alarm in the split second it took Mendoza's finger to tighten upon the trigger and send a bullet crashing through the man's brain. Before Murakoshi could react, the barrel of an AK-47 was buried in his ribs. The Interpol agent raised his hands

'Filthy imperialist gringo!' Mendoza snarled as he spat a gob of slimy spittle into the ruin of the dead spy's face. The Colonel set his smoking pistol down on the table and looked over at Murakoshi. The rebel's face again wore a predatory smile.

'So, you want to know where Mafune is?' Mendoza laughed.

'Millions will die if he is not stopped,' Murakoshi pleaded. Mendoza laughed again.

'Si, millions. And maybe some of them will be in Panama, if I am nice to Mafune,' Mendoza smiled. 'So why would I betray him? The money?' Mendoza caressed the leather case. 'I already have the money.'

'He is a madman. You can't be sure that he will do as you want,' Murakoshi noticed a slight change cross Colonel Mendoza's face, but the moment passed quickly.

'He is almost done doing what he needs to do,' Mendoza assured Murakoshi. 'Then he will let me use his pets.' Mendoza grew thoughtful for a moment. 'Still, if it makes you feel any better, I will tell you where he is. You know those islands the damn gringos made their dinosaurs on? Mafune owns an island very close to them. He had something to do with that operation. Of course, his monsters are a lot bigger.'

Mendoza looked over at his soldiers. 'He has heard what he paid for. Kill him.'

Suddenly, the side door of the warehouse burst inwards. A figure dressed in black and white leaped through the open door. Forty-five caliber automatics glistened in the dim sunlight filtering through the warehouse's porous tin roof. Flame leapt from the twin pistols, discharging a deadly cargo of lead across the empty building. Two of Mendoza's men dropped immediately, their unfired assault rifles clattering across the floor. The figured rolled as he completed his leap through the door, firing as he rose from the roll even as the first retaliatory shots crashed against the wall behind him. As the man in black fired, two more of Mendoza's men screamed and fell.

The man guarding Murakoshi was taken by surprise when the Interpol agent smashed his elbow into the man's stomach. As the guard doubled over, Murakoshi kicked the table between himself and Colonel Mendoza even as the fat rebel reached for his discarded pistol. A look of horror gripped Mendoza as the table tipped over and the valise of money shattered against the floor, sending bills scattering across the room. The look of horror turned to hate and Mendoza dropped behind the table, scrambling for the weapon of one of his slain guards. Murakoshi tore his own pistol from its holster and leapt over the table. The Interpol agent landed ontop of the fat officer, knocking the wind from the obese Colonel.

Shots continued to sound across the warehouse, barking .45's booming from the shadows as the type-writer trains of AK-47's tried to find a target. As more time passed, the sound of the assault rifles grew less and less, until only the .45's could be heard. 

Murakoshi continued to struggle with Mendoza. At last, the Interpol agent kicked the assault rifle away, sending it sliding across the floor. Mendoza stared at Murakoshi's pistol, sullenly accepting defeat. Murakoshi rose from the rebel, motioning Mendoza to stand also. A smile crawled across Mendoza's face. Murakoshi spun about to see his former guard pointing a rifle at him. Suddenly, another .45 shot boomed from the shadows and the guard's chest erupted in a crimson mist. The man dropped at once. Murakoshi hastily covered Mendoza, watching as his rescuer walked towards both men.

The man was Chinese, dressed in a black suit and wearing a white silk cravat around his neck. Two .45 pistols were gripped in the man's gloved hands. It was the same man Murakoshi had noticed at the airport.

'You are CIA?' Murakoshi asked as the Chinese man walked over to him. The Chinese man let a smile flicker across his face.

'No,' he shrugged. At the same instant, he smacked the barrel of one of his pistols against the side of Murakoshi's head. The Interpol agent's world turned into darkness.

The three people standing on the sandy beach of Ogasawara did so without any fear. Rodan and Godzilla were both gone, joining the chaos in Tokyo. And now, Monsterland's other denizen was about to depart as well. Unlike the other two, it was hoped that Mothra would be able to stop the carnage.

Dr. Otani watched as Mothra slowly fanned her massive wings in the warm tropical sunlight. The yellow and black wings caused a gentle breeze to waft across the island, the light wind carrying the monster goddess' flowery scent. Despite the grave concerns and doubts filling his mind, the director of Monsterland found himself smiling as the gentle breeze snapped at his lab coat.

'Please, let Mothra know how very much this means to not only us, but people everywhere,' Professor Miura said. The scientist was kneeling in the sand, speaking to the tiny figures of Moll and Lora, Mothra's fairy priestesses.

'She already knows,' the Cosmos said in unison. 'That is why Mothra decided to help, because she feels that the people of Japan are her responsibility.'

'It was the concern of all of you kind people that allowed Mothra to come here and recover from her horrible battle with King Ghidorah,' Moll elaborated.

'Now it is her turn to help you,' Lora added.

Mothra's chitinous mouth parted and a sharp shriek echoed across the island. The Cosmos turned and watched as the tiny fairy Mothra emerged from the larger deity and settled on the sand beside them.

'Mothra will leave now, and we must go with her,' the Cosmos said, climbing onto the fairy familiar's back. The owl-sized moth rose into the air, its own chirp far less commanding than Mothra's echoing cry.

'We wish you the greatest luck,' Miki Saegusa said to the departing Cosmos.

'Have faith in Mothra, and keep hope in your hearts and Mothra will be victorious,' the Cosmos advised. Mothra rose into the air, slowly, beating her great wings. The enormous insect increased her speed as she flew away from the island, no longer concerned with accidentally harming innocent people. The much smaller dot that was the fairy Mothra pursued the goddess until both were far beyond the vision of the three people on the beach.

'Can Mothra really put an end to the battle?' Dr. Otani wondered aloud.

'You heard the Cosmos,' Professor Miura replied, 'Mothra can influence the very minds of the creatures, make them no longer want to fight.'

'Can Mothra influence the minds of people?' Miki Saegusa interjected. 'Would she even try to violate a human being's free will?'

'How do you mean?' asked Professor Miura.

'Anguirus, Gorosaurus and the others, they are not in control of themselves. Dr. Mafune, wherever he is, has a hold over them. Mothra might alter the minds of the dinosaurs, but will she be able to break Mafune's hold over them? And then there is the robot guarding MARS. Will MARS just let the monsters leave in peace, or will they insist on the satisfaction of revenge?' Miki Saegusa recalled the bloody battle between Godzilla, Rodan and the robot Steel Rain that had occurred on this very beach. She had seen one of MARS' creations firsthand and had some idea of the awful power at their command.

'All we can do,' Dr. Otani said, looking at the huge blue and white egg resting beneath its camouflaged canopy, ' is to do as the Cosmos said. We must have faith that Mothra will be victorious.'

Titanosaurus reared back, trumpeting triumphantly as Gorosaurus again battered the fallen Rodan with his massive tail. Anguirus had a grip on the fallen pterosaur's wing and was worrying it savagely with his sharp, vicious fangs. Rodan cackled weakly, still trying to rise from the deep crater. Blood poured from dozens of wounds in the monster's leathery hide, his body broken and battered by the combined might of three of Mafune's terrible creations.

Titanosaurus snorted and stomped back towards the flying beast that had so savagely attacked his comrade. The amphibious dinosaur did not really have any great desire to harm the fallen monster, but the urge was prodding him forward, pushing him to help his fellows finish Rodan off as quickly as they could and then return to the destruction of the Hachiman Building. Titanosaurus did not resist, stomping back towards his fellows to rejoin the attack.

A blast of atomic fire struck Titanosaurus in the shoulder, pitching the warty beast into an industrial complex. Titanosaurus toppled into the mass of smokestacks, much of his body covered in shattered bricks and twisted steel. The same blue flame lashed out mercilessly across the battlefield, scorching Gorosaurus and Anguirus repeatedly. The stunned monsters hastily withdrew from the fallen Rodan as the atomic beam pursued them. Each of the giant beasts howled in anger.

Godzilla's enraged roar drowned out the defiant bellows of Gorosaurus and Anguirus. The mammoth living mountain of scales and muscles stomped across the devastation, snarling his wrath at the dinosaurs. Anguirus hooted his own challenge and scrambled towards the oncoming Godzilla, but swiftly retreated when a concentrated blast of golden fire turned the street right in front of the charging dinosaur into a bubbling pool of molten slag. Godzilla shrieked his last warning at the spike-backed reptile and turned toward the fallen Rodan.

Rodan managed to lift his ravaged body from the crater, shaking dust and blood from his savaged back. The giant pterosaur cackled weakly at his rescuer, welcoming his 'brother' with what strength was left in him. Godzilla stared at the wounded Rodan, fury growing in his eyes. Rodan rose to his feet, his body trembling from the effort. Again, the terror of the sky cackled weakly. Godzilla nudged his friend with the side of his head, trying to induce Rodan back into the sky, away from his attackers. Either Rodan did not understand, or the effort was beyond his remaining strength. Godzilla looked away from his wounded comrade to again snarl at the three dinosaur monsters.

Suddenly, Godzilla was struck by a tremendous force, pitching sideways and very nearly losing his footing. A blast of flame ineffectually engulfed his face as he turned to face his attacker. As the flames died, they were replaced by a brilliant flash of light and Godzilla again found himself blinded. Baragon leaped away from the momentarily stunned titan, even as Gorosaurus and Anguirus advanced toward him. The ravenous beast had not forgotten his enemy. Enough intelligence lurked in Baragon's ever-hungry mind to understand that if Godzilla was too powerful for him to overcome on his own, then he would need the help of his fellow monsters to feats upon the giant's flesh. As Godzilla's sight slowly began to return, Baragon circled around Godzilla and Rodan, seeking the advantage of a rear attack. Gorosaurus and Anguirus continued to advance from the front. Rising from the shattered industrial complex, Titanosaurus shook the rubble from his body, and closed upon the embattled pair's right flank. 

Godzilla and Rodan watched as their adversaries closed the circle around them. They realized that they were being surrounded and outnumbered by their savage foes. But both monsters were determined to exact a terrible toll from their enemies before they were defeated.

From the dark recesses of the Hachiman Building, Tetsuo watched as the monsters turned upon one another. Good, he thought, let them fight. Let them kill one another. Those which survive will be weak, easy prey for Cybricon. Then, Cybricon's sensors detected an enormous object in the distance, sunlight gleaming from its metal surface. Mechatron had arrived.

Weakened or not, Tetsuo decided, the monsters had no chance at all now. 


	10. War of the Dinosaurs

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part VIII:

War of the Giant Dinosaurs

Commander James Brandon marched through the sterile corridors of the Nevada GARD headquarters. The marines standing to either side of the doorway he approached saluted the Commander sharply. Commander Brandon replied with a curt nod of dismissal and entered the door the two sentries were protecting.

Within was a large room crammed with monitors and machinery. It was here that tactical strategists analyzed every available recording of monster attacks, scouring the films for any strategic benefit they might contain. At present, every technician and strategist in the room was bent upon a single task. Every man was analyzing the few available recordings of the battle between Titanosaurus and the MARS robot Mechatron in New York City. Given the stubborn reluctance of the MARS corporation to even admit to constructing Mechatron, the recordings provided the only clue to what had occurred and what had finally driven the ravaging dinosaur beast of Dr. Mafune.

Army Major MacDonough turned away from the technician he was overseeing and saluted the GARD commander. Commander Brandon nodded again, clearly annoyed at being asked to personally witness whatever his Army subordinate had to report.

'I am glad that you could come, sir,' Major MacDonough said, punctuating his words with another sharp salute.

'Just show me what you have,' snapped Commander Brandon curtly. Major MacDonough swallowed nervously, obviously not expecting such surliness from his C. O. For his part; Commander Brandon could not stand being in the same room with the man. Not only was MacDonough Army, but he had spent the last fifteen years at the rank of major, clearly too incompetent to ever rise to the rank of colonel.

'It is not so much what I have to show you, but what I have for you to listen to,' replied Major MacDonough. He gestured for Commander Brandon to join him at the station. Commander Brandon marched over to the terminal, looking over the technician's shoulder at the battle playing across his video monitor. At Major MacDonough's gesture, Commander Brandon placed a pair of earphones to his head.

'What the Hell is that?' Commander Brandon snarled as he pulled the earphones from his head. The sounds of battle had suddenly been drowned out by a loud, undulating whine.

'We think that the sound you just heard was some sort of sonic attack the robot used against Titanosaurus,' answered Major MacDonough, puffing himself up with pride. 'Judging by the monster's reaction to it, we feel that it was this sonic attack that finally drove Titanosaurus out of New York.'

Commander Brandon's face grew reflective for a moment as he considered the Major's report. 'Do you think that we can reproduce this frequency?' he asked.

'Yes sir,' replied Major MacDonough. 'Knowing the sound, we will be able to reproduce the exact frequency used against the monster.'

'Good. Contact ordinance and get them to work on it,' Commander Brandon ordered, turning to leave the room.

Uh, sir,' Major MacDonough interrupted his commander's departure. 'Mafune's creatures are attacking Tokyo even as we speak. Shouldn't we contact the Japanese and let them know what we have discovered?'

'The Japanese?' Commander Brandon's voice was incredulous. 'They wouldn't know what to do with this information. It is the job of GARD to develop the technology to defeat the Super-saurs.' His piece said, Commander Brandon turned on his heel and marched from the room. Major MacDonough watched his C. O. depart.

'Sergeant,' Major MacDonough addressed a soldier seated nearby at a communications station. It was obvious to the major that Commander Brandon's decision was both arrogant and irresponsible. The Japanese had need of this information at once, not when Commander Brandon was finished with it. Plus, there was the fact that if he went above his superior's head in this matter, he could not fail to draw the attention of the Pentagon. Perhaps he would make colonel yet.

'Get me a line to the Japanese Self-Defense Forces. I need to talk to whoever they have that is in charge of their anti-kaiju measures.' Major MacDonough smiled. Commander Brandon would be furious at what he was doing, but by the time the Navy officer discovered what had happened, it would be much too late.

With a brutal bellow of ferocity, Baragon leaped across the shattered rubble, striving again to bury his horn in Godzilla's flesh. Godzilla turned, catching the brutish beast before he could strike Godzilla's body. The impact of Baragon's body caused Godzilla to slide backwards a dozen meters, but the huge nuclear powered monster remained standing. Godzilla hurled the much smaller dinosaur creature away from him, scorching Baragon's armored back with a blast of atomic fire as the stunned dinosaur slid across the cracked and ruined streets.

The attack had diverted Godzilla's attention, however, and Anguirus was quick to seize the advantage, scrambling forward to attack this new enemy. Anguirus reared upwards as he reached Godzilla, rising onto his hind legs for a brief moment before allowing gravity to pull his tremendous mass downwards, the monster's full weight smashing into Godzilla's back, forcing the other monster to the ground with a tremendous crash. Anguirus clamped his jaws upon one of Godzilla's dorsal plates and began tugging at the bony growth, trying to rip it from Godzilla's body.

Rodan sent a blast of crackling uranium energy sizzling into Anguirus, trying to drive the monster off of his beleaguered 'brother'. The sizzling energy licked into the fleshy side of the prehistoric mutation, but the dogged Anguirus refused to release his grip upon Godzilla. Rodan maneuvered awkwardly to score a hit upon the enemy beast's horned head. The roar behind Rodan declared that his attack was not to be. Gorosaurus reared back on his tail, kicking Rodan with his powerful legs, pitching the wounded pterosaur onto the spiked back of Anguirus. Rodan cried in agony as his mass was impaled upon Anguirus' spines. Gorosaurus retreated as Titanosaurus took up the attack, his cyclonic breath battering Godzilla and Rodan with the wrack and debris of Tokyo's destruction. The steel and stone savaged the already opened wounds in both monsters' hides. Safe beneath his armored carapace and the shrouding body of Rodan, Anguirus barely noticed his comrade's attack.

Suddenly, a brilliant glow surrounded Godzilla's dorsal plates. Anguirus released his grip upon the white-hot dorsal plate, his mouth burned by the radioactive energy. Godzilla harnessed the nuclear force of his body into a concentrated pulse of atomic fury. The glowing field of energy erupted from his body, gouging a huge pit in the devastated battlefield. Anguirus and Rodan were both blasted from Godzilla's body. The spiky dinosaur howled in pain as the atomic assault sent him flying, crashing back to earth kilometers away, the momentum causing him to roll through the foundations of several high-rises. Rodan fared much better, the atomic pulse carrying him not nearly so far. More, like Godzilla, Rodan was a creature of radiation. The pterosaur's body absorbed some of the destructive energy, setting it to repairing some of the damage visited upon him by Mafune's menagerie.

Godzilla rose from the pit his atomic power had created, his eyes glowing with fury. He turned, glaring at the still standing Super-saurs. Titanosaurus blasted the reptile with his cyclone breath, trying again to spill the black-scaled monster to the ground. Godzilla dug his feet in, refusing to be moved by the hurricane-like assault. A blast of atomic flame scored a hit against Titanosaurus and the warty dinosaur slipped away from his foe. Gorosaurus took the respite in Titanosaurus' attack to charge Godzilla, but was again repulsed when Godzilla's fire lashed out at the theropod, charring the scales on his chest black. 

Baragon watched the furious attack, awaiting his opportunity. Again, the small, voracious beast leapt at Godzilla. This time Godzilla did not see the attack coming and the force of Baragon's assault drove the glowing horn of the monster deep into Godzilla's thigh. Baragon howled with triumph, scorching the ruptured flesh with his fiery breath. Godzilla shrieked in pain, tearing at the monster with his claws. Trying to pull Baragon from his body, Godzilla could do nothing as Gorosaurus and Titanosaurus began to once again close in upon him.

Rodan heard Godzilla's cry of pain, cackling weakly, trying to assure his alley that he would soon come to his aid. Rodan flapped his wings feebly. The surge of nuclear energy had given Rodan some strength, but not nearly enough to heal much of the terrible damage done to him by the dinosaur monsters. Still, the flying fiend was determined to help his 'brother'. Rodan tried again to pull himself into the air. Just as Rodan began to lift from the ground, a howl of challenge sounded from below him and sharp fangs lashed onto his taloned foot. Anguirus bled from scores of wounds, much of his scaly body burned by Godzilla's nuclear pulse. Yet still, the spike-backed dinosaur was determined to pursue the battle.

Colonel Sho Kuroki observed the soldiers as they fitted the bizarre looking device to the armored hull of the Super-X3. The JSDF officer had wasted no time in implementing Operation NY, almost as soon as he had received the communication from Major MacDonough of GARD, Colonel Kuroki had ordered one of Professor Hayashida's old sonic 'Godzilla lures' altered to reproduce the sonic frequency the robot Mechatron had employed to drive off Titanosaurus in New York. Colonel Kuroki only hoped that the Super-X3 could be dispatched before any further damage to the seemingly cursed city of Tokyo could be done. 

'Sir,' Captain Fukuda saluted his superior. 'The latest reports say that the Mechatron robot itself has just landed near the battlefield. The other robot, Cybricon, is also back on its feet. Would it not be more prudent to allow the robots to finish off the monsters?'

'I have seen those reports also, Captain,' replied Colonel Kuroki. 'The two MARS robots have been standing immobile for the better part of fifteen minutes. They have made no move to attack any of the monsters. It seems that as long as the Hachiman building is not in jeopardy, MARS doesn't care if the monsters destroy the entire city.' Colonel Kuroki let some of the bitterness leave his voice. 'We have to try and stop them ourselves, we can't wait for outsiders to solve this problem for us.'

A JSDF engineer walked up to the two officers and saluted. 'Colonel, the sonic transmitter is in place. Shall we test it?'

'There is no time,' Colonel Kuroki stated. 'Tell the crew to have the Super-X3 lift off at once. Every moment we waste, we put more lives in peril.' The engineer saluted and raced away to implement Colonel Kuroki's orders. A grim smile settled upon Colonel Kuroki's face. If the sonic transmitter did not work, there would be no second chance. Yet testing the device could take hours. He had to assume that the modifications made to the 'Godzilla Lure' were enough. 

Dr. Shinji Mafune sat in the high-backed straw chair on the veranda of his island hideout. The old scientist seemed to be in a daze, his mind far away, split between four separate beings, his ego prodding and pushing them to act as instruments of his will. Events in Tokyo had taken a dire turn, one which Mafune had not expected. He had been prepared for another robot, such as the one that had thwarted the destruction of MARS' New York headquarters. What he had not been prepared for was the arrival of Godzilla and Rodan. He had bent his monsters to the task of destroying the two nuclear mutations, even going so far as to allowing them to forget about destroying the Hachiman Building, but Godzilla and Rodan were proving very stubborn. The two beasts simply refused to die. In his mind, Mafune could see the battle unfolding, he could see Baragon ripping at Godzilla with his horn and fangs, Gorosaurus and Titanosaurus supporting Baragon's attack with brutal blows against Godzilla's body with their powerful tails. He could see Anguirus, his fangs locked about Rodan's foot, preventing the flying monster from rising far above the ground, his great weight preventing Rodan from coming to Godzilla's aid. If he could only delay Rodan long enough, Mafune was sure that he could direct the other monsters in a manner that would spell death for Godzilla. Perhaps if he suggested to Gorosaurus that he clamp his jaws about Godzilla's neck, rip his throat from his body…

Mafune struggled up from his chair, his mind suddenly no longer in Tokyo, but very much back in his real surroundings. The glint of a metallic object out at sea had arrested the mad scientist's attention, snapping him back to reality. It was unusual for a motor boat to stray so near to his island. Officially, the waters in this area were off-limits to the public; the dangerous nature of two nearby islands had been enough to force the Costa Rican government to prohibit the region. Still, boats did occasionally break the quarantine, though only Mafune's monthly supply boast did so with immunity. Other trespassers would find the prohibition enforced by Titanosaurus. But Titanosaurus was not here to swat the small boat, reduce it to flotsam and debris.

There was a loud crack and Mafune thought he could see a small bright flash from the prow of the speedboat. Certainly there was a figure standing in the tiny ship. Mafune looked downwards, surprised to find the front of his white plantation suit covered in blood. The sanguine fluid gushed from a wound just above his heart. Mafune looked up again, alarm and horror on his face. The look froze there as another loud crack echoed from the sea. Mafune's horn-rimmed glasses fell to the wooden deck at his feet, the nose piece broken in two. Mafune stood for a moment, blood streaming from behind his glassy eyes. Then, the mad man dropped, joining his ruined glasses on the warm wooden deck of the veranda.

Out at sea, in the little speedboat, Geoffrey Chow lowered his sniper rifle. He ejected the spent shell casing into one of his gloved hands, placing the shell in the breast pocket of his dark suit. With his other hand, he dropped the weapon into the frothing sea. Chow turned away from Mafune's island and started the speedboat. Soon, the boat was racing back toward the mainland, Chow's silk cravat streaming behind him, snapping in the wind. 

Anguirus released Rodan's foot, dropping back into a large apartment building. Rodan cackled angrily at the fallen monster, but did not waste time to attack him, instead flying towards Godzilla and the other Super-saurs. Anguirus watched Rodan fly off, a dazed, confused look glassing over the mutated dinosaur's eyes.

Gorosaurus clamped his jaws about Godzilla's throat. Even as the theropod began to put pressure in his bite, Gorosaurus released his grip, staggering away from Godzilla, a confused look in the dinosaur's eyes. Titanosaurus stared at his comrade, the same bewilderment written upon the beast's reptilian face. Godzilla leaned downwards, ripping the equally befuddled Baragon from his leg, swatting the voracious reptile away from him with a slap of his powerful tail. Baragon crashed into a department store. The dinosaur quickly rose from the rubble, but the confused look remained upon his face. Godzilla glared at all three of his enemies, roaring his wrath. None of the monsters responded, still staring about themselves with confusion. Godzilla watched the dinosaurs; content for the moment to allow them to make the next move.

'The monsters are no longer being controlled by their master,' Moll declared to Lora as Mothra hovered closer to the battlefield. Even from such a distance, the fairies could detect the sudden change in the giant beasts.

'Perhaps now, Mothra can convince the monsters to stop fighting and leave in peace,' Lora said. The fairy Mothra was flying just above the gigantic shape of the vastly larger insect deity. 

'Oh no!' cried Moll. 'The machines! The robots are going to attack!'

Tetsuo sneered as he watched Godzilla face off against Mafune's monsters. The beasts were disoriented for some reason and had broken off their attack. It seemed that they were not even capable of defending themselves in their present condition. Godzilla was clearly wounded, obviously he would prove a much easier foe to vanquish than before. Tetsuo smiled as he ordered Cybricon into position. He knew that Mechatron's controller was doing the same. Now it would be time to show the world what the technology of MARS could do! John Latos would have to construct a new mantelpiece for the trophy Cybricon was going to give him to hang above it. He would have to be careful to ensure that Godzilla's head remained in a presentable condition. 


	11. Of Machines and Monsters

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Part IX:

Of Machines and Monsters

Godzilla stared at the two steel monsters as they maneuvered through the rubble. The atomic beast's attention was still focused upon the reeling Super-saurs; their minds still stunned by the abrupt cessation of the urge. Godzilla did not know from what quarter to expect an attack. The two towering titans of steel reminded Godzilla of another artificial titan, the Saradian war machine Steel Rain, and reminded him of the terrible pain Steel Rain had caused him. Still, the attacks of Mafune's creations were more recent, and Godzilla paid his flesh-and-blood opponents greater attention than the silent robots.

Tetsuo smirked as he watched Mechatron sidle towards Cybricon. The two machines, brothers of steel and titanium, stood side-by-side for the first time. Within each of the robots was the power to devastate a city, together their might would be ultimate. Tetsuo could tell by the way Mechatron was shifting its torso, angling its long-barreled cannons, that its controller had come to the same conclusion that he had. The Super-saurs had been stricken by some strange infirmity. For the time being, they posed no threat. Godzilla, though wounded, was still very much up and around. He posed the greatest danger to the two robots. Tetsuo sneered again, for that was no danger at all.

The earth shuddered as Cybricon and Mechatron let steel claws erupt from the sides of their feet, sinking into the asphalt and concrete, securing the robots in their positions. Both robots raised their weapon-laden arms. The red-visored heads turned toward Godzilla. The reptile seemed to sense what was coming, roaring his unearthly shriek, stomping towards the still silent machines. Then, the warriors of MARS attacked.

Shells the size of automobiles flew from Mechatron's immense batteries of slug-throwers. The soft metal flattened on impact, tearing great gouges into Godzilla's hide. From Mechatron's head, the hideous Tesla Ray struck again and again, burning and searing the already ravaged flesh. A seemingly endless barrage of missiles flew from the huge launchers housed in the shoulders of the robot's box-like torso. 

Beside Mechatron, the steel samurai Cybricon added its fury to the attack. Batteries of Maser cannons ripped into Godzilla with searing laser-light. Full-Metal Missiles, the same horrible armament that had been the principal weapon of Steel Rain, blasted into Godzilla once again, fired from launchers concealed in Cybricon's neck, like a set of death-dealing gills. From the jewel-like piece set in the center of the robot's helmet-like head, icy blue light struck out at Godzilla, freezing his flesh even as Maser Cannons and Tesla Rays vaporized the ice even as it formed on Godzilla's tormented body.

Godzilla howled in agony, his tortured body dropping against the ground. The targeting computers of the two war machines automatically compensated for Godzilla's tormented thrashings, causing the robots' attacks to strike the writhing target more often than not. Steaming radioactive blood oozed from Godzilla's ravaged skin, melting stone and cement as it struck the ground. Godzilla's cries became a single unrelenting scream, a wail of torment that shattered windows miles away. And still, the robot's maintained their intense barrage.

Baragon was the first of the Super-saurs to recover from the death of their master. The sudden freedom of will had shocked the monster; the ability to think without restriction had momentarily fazed the ravenous beast. Baragon stared around him with eager, hungry eyes. His massive ears rose upright as the hideous scream of Godzilla sounded across the battlefield. Baragon rose from the rubble, shaking debris from his body. The monster could see the two steel giants unleashing their unrestrained power against the black scaly form writhing before them. Baragon's eyes narrowed as he spied the ravaged body of Godzilla, as his nostrils picked up the scent of Godzilla's irradiated blood. Baragon grinned hungrily and leapt from the shattered ruins.

The huge, armored monster reached Godzilla in a single bound, his jaws clamping upon Godzilla's shoulder. Before Baragon could even begin to worry a chunk of flesh from his victim, a chance Tesla Ray shot burned a hole clean through the monster's left ear. Baragon released his grip, howling in pain. The mutant dinosaur looked towards his attacker, roaring again in his rage. The lizard leaped again, this time at Mechatron. Far away, in New York, Harker saw this new enemy and ordered the machine to redirect its fire. As Baragon flew towards Mechatron, the full firepower of the robot slammed into the voracious beast, causing him to change direction in mid-air, the power of the attack throwing Baragon back in the direction from which he had come. Baragon struck the ground, sliding nearly a kilometer on his armored back. The dinosaur's scaly hide was broken and charred. Fear and pain overcame hunger in Baragon's primitive mind. Baragon regained his feet and leapt once more. But this time it was away from Godzilla and the two robots. Baragon connected with the foundation of a nightclub and immediately began to burrow downwards, back into the safety of the earth.

With the menace of Baragon removed, Mechatron turned his weapons back on Godzilla. Again, the machine did not warn Harker in time of the arrival of another combatant. The long, powerful tail of Titanosaurus battered the robot's torso, nearly overbalancing it. Titanosaurus bellowed his gurgling roar, gesturing with his claws at the silent machine. Mechatron rotated its torso to face Titanosaurus. As soon as it had done so, Titanosaurus blasted the machine with his cyclonic breath. With its feet firmly anchored in the concrete, Mechatron resisted the furious assault, the machine as immobile as a mountain. One of the robot's antennas crumpled and was torn away, but the machine stood as defiant as ever. In the midst of Titanosaurus' attack, the black plate on Mechatron's plate began to crackle with gathering electrical energy.

Harker decided to let Titanosaurus feel the full power of the attack the dinosaur had escaped feeling in New York. The gathering electrical energy erupted in a wave of destruction, obliterating nearby buildings as the wave connected with the dinosaur's body. Titanosaurus was lifted by the wave and carried by the destructive force as surely as a kite in a hurricane. The robot did not even linger to see where the dinosaur landed, but immediately rotated its torso back to its original position to resume the attack on Godzilla.

Tetsuo noted the two attempted attacks upon Mechatron and paid more attention to Cybricon's sensors. He saw Gorosaurus shake his head and begin to stalk towards his robot. Tetsuo knew only two well the recuperative powers of Godzilla and was not about to give the reptile any breathing space. Cybricon continued to hammer Godzilla with its ice-ray, Full-Metal Missiles, and left battery of Maser cannons. Only the right arm, with its arsenal of Maser cannons tracked the advancing dinosaur. Cybricon fired on the beast, searing his flesh, but not delivering enough damage top force Gorosaurus to retreat. As long as it was enough to keep him away from Cybricon until Godzilla was dead, Tetsuo would be content.

'They are killing him,' Moll cried from atop the fairy Mothra.

'Yes, they are determined to kill them all,' Lora stated grimly. 'The men who guide the steel giants are distant. Perhaps they do not appreciate the horror of what they are doing. Or perhaps they choose to embrace it.'

The Cosmos had hoped that the battle would soon end when the no longer sensed the influence of Dr. Mafune guiding the dinosaurs. That hope had been dashed when the two robots had opened fire upon Godzilla. It was the decision of the men controlling those machines to carry on the conflict.

As the Cosmos continued to watch, a huge, leathery winged shape dropped from the sky. Rodan spat his crackling uranium beam at the two robots, the sizzling energy dancing between them with little effect. Rodan landed before Godzilla, trying to shield the other monster with his own body. It was bait which the two robots seemed willing to accept, their continuing barrage battering the flying reptile as mercilessly as it had the fading Godzilla.

'This is not a battle,' Lora declared, 'this is butchery.'

From where she hovered just below the fairy carrying the Cosmos, Mothra chirped angrily. It seemed that the moth goddess shared the opinion of her twin priestesses. Shrieking again, Mothra descended toward the conflict.

Mothra began to circle above the battle, flying just above the rays and missiles slamming into Rodan and Godzilla. The damage pitched Rodan backwards, yet still the pterosaur attempted to shield his 'brother', draping his wing over Godzilla's ravaged body. For an instant, Gorosaurus broke through Cybricon's attack, closing upon the machine. Gorosaurus clamped his jaws down upon Cybricon's arm, clenching his jaws tight. Just as the metal beneath his teeth began to twist, a surge of electricity shocked the dinosaur's mouth. Gorosaurus cried in surprise and pain as Cybricon's electrical field caused him to release his grip upon the machine. The reptile rolled away from Cybricon, nearly crashing against Mechatron's feet. As the dinosaur rose, Mechatron battered him away with one of his gun-laden arms. Gorosaurus staggered away, dangerously close to the killing field near Godzilla and Rodan.

Mothra chirped again, a final plea to the men controlling the two robots, a final warning. As she continued to circle, a rain of bright, sparkling pollen drifted downwards from Mothra's body and wings. The reflective pollen formed a shield between Godzilla and Rodan and the attacks of the two robots. The Tesla Ray crackled and warped, reflecting back into Mechatron, scoring great holes in the robot's angular armor. Cybricon's Maser cannons and ice ray were also reflected back, a thin layer of frost forming on parts of the steel samurai's armored hull. Almost instantly, both robots ceased fire. Mothra slowed her circular pattern, dropping towards the ravaged monsters below. 

No living thing was housed within the towering steel monsters, no mind lurking within the armored hulls. The closest of the two controllers was buried within the reinforced walls of the Hachiman Building. There was no way for the Cosmos to warn Mothra of what was coming next.

Crackling electrical energy danced across the black plates on the chests of Cybricon and Mechatron. The two robots waited, biding their time as Mothra drew closer. The robots pivoted on the spot, allowing their Omega Storm projectors to focus upon the moth goddess. That they were about to fire upon an acknowledged savior of humanity did not seem to disturb either Tetsuo or Harker. The combined discharge of both Omega Storm weapons would pulp the moth goddess, scattering her husk across the city, perhaps even into the outlying countryside.

The attack was not to come, however. Even as the fury built, a low howl of challenge echoed from behind Cybricon. The robot was unable to act in time and the spike-backed body of Anguirus slammed into the robot once more, just as Cybricon fired the Omega Storm. The impact of Anguirus' leap caused Cybricon to spin sideways, tearing its anchored feet from its titanium and steel legs. The fury of the Omega Storm lashed out, but instead of striking Mothra, the blast engulfed Mechatron.

Mechatron was savaged by the blast, its own Omega Storm firing wildly into the sky, coloring the twilight sky with a miniature borealis. Cybricon's attack melted armor from Mechatron's left side, its arm tearing away and sailing into the sky, the better part of its head turned into a mass of torn and twisted scrap. As the wave of awesome power dissipated, Mechatron released its shock anchors, staggering away. The machine had survived the blast of friendly fire, but only barely. Now, Mechatron was in no condition to pursue the battle. The once mighty robot warrior slowly lumbered away, crushing buildings in its clumsy retreat.

Left behind, the crippled Cybricon tried to rise again. In sheer frustration, Tetsuo ordered the machine to fire its Maser cannons on Anguirus, scoring a few glancing hits on the monster's spiked carapace. The dinosaur had been caught in some of the Omega Storm's backlash and did not react to the almost insignificant assault from Cybricon's failing Masers, but remain fazed and groggy in the midst of the devastated industrial sector.

Tetsuo screamed with wrath. It was not possible that any living creature could best this ultimate champion of technology! He refused to accept his defeat. Smiling wickedly, Tetsuo activated the self-destruct mechanism built into Cybricon. The resulting blast would obliterate at least the spinney creature that had been instrumental in the defeat of the two robots.

The smile faded when a huge, bleeding mass of gaping wounds and shredded flesh emerged from the protective embrace of Rodan. Godzilla snarled, his fury unchained. Golden light crackled about his dorsal plates and a gout of golden fire slammed into Cybricon's left Maser arm, melting through the armored hull to slag the mechanics beneath. Godzilla continued to play his fire across the machine's hull until it no longer bore any manner of shape, resembling nothing more than a giant blob-like mound. By that time, the ravaged beast had stomped across the battlefield. Reaching downwards, Godzilla lifted the wreckage of Cybricon. The monster shrieked his wrath as he hurled the machine's corpse away from him. If he had chosen it, Godzilla could not have found a more fitting target to receive Cybricon's corpse. The machine crashed into the lower floors of the Hachiman Building, the upper floors collapsing ontop of it. Tetsuo, nearly catatonic from the feedback of Godzilla's unrestrained assault upon the disabled Cybricon, desperately tried to abort the self-destruct, but could not concentrate enough to send the signal. The explosion destroyed the remainder of the Hachiman Building, casting its debris into the darkening sky.

Near Tokyo Bay, Mechatron paused in its retreat, seemingly reacting to the destruction of the Hachiman Building. The robot was unprepared when a bleeding, warty, red and green mountain of flesh and scales crashed into it. Not even a single round was able to escape from Mechatron's remaining cannons before Titanosaurus was able to overbear the robot. Titanosaurus toppled toward the water, pulling the damaged machine after him. As Mechatron struck the bay, its exposed wiring reacted to the water. The resulting explosion almost rivaled that of the Hachiman Building, depositing the last remains of Mechatron's head in an aboveground golf course almost two miles away. The blast engulfed Titanosaurus, knocking the dinosaur beneath the waters. He did not emerge from the foaming wake of the explosion.

Back in New York, the feedback of Mechatron's destruction seared the neural pathways and synapses of its operator. On the orders of John Latos, a security guard later shot the idiot thing that had once been called Harker.

Mothra again circled above the battlefield. The weary, ravaged figures of Godzilla and Rodan stared about them. They briefly seemed to consider the figures of Gorosaurus and Anguirus. It did not take much prodding from Mothra to edge the two monsters from attacking the almost unconscious dinosaurs. Had they been opposed to the suggestion, Mothra could never have convinced the two radioactive beasts to leave. But they presented no opposition. Like two weary veterans of a long campaign, Godzilla and Rodan lumbered away from the Super-saurs, eager to return to their home, eager to leave behind the world of man.

Mothra followed after the two monsters, knowing that there was nothing more for her to do. Already, the sleek black shape of the JSDF's Super-X3 was streaking toward the ravaged battlefield. Mothra was content to leave the rest in the hands of men who would not be motivated by evil desires and technological pride. The moth goddess lazily began to follow after Rodan, just to be certain that the flying terror achieved no mischief on his journey back to Ogasawara.

When he felt that it was safe to do so, Baragon emerged from his burrow. The horned monster surveyed the ruins about him. He could see no sign of Godzilla, nor of the two machines that had dealt him so much pain. But the voracious beast could see something else. Baragon's eyes grew narrow as he observed Anguirus, immobile, only his chest rising and falling to indicate that the monster was still alive. All of Mafune's influence was gone now, and Baragon had no sense of kinship with his fellow Super-saurs now. The ravenous brute rushed from his hole, anxious to feast upon the scaly flesh of the defenseless Anguirus.

Suddenly, Baragon was assaulted by an intense wave of agony. The dinosaur writhed upon the ground as the agony steadily increased. At last, the pain grew too great for the monster to handle and blissful darkness engulfed Baragon's primitive brain. The unconscious monster fell across the spiked tail of his intended meal and was still.

In the cockpit of the Super-X3, Sho Kuroki smiled. The sonic transmitter had worked after all, now the only problem was what to do about three sleeping monsters. He had a feeling that stopping kaiju was the JSDF's job, after that he would be more than happy to defer to the UNGCC. Colonel Sho Kuroki was more than content to let the removal of the dinosaurs be Commander Aso's headache. For now, his job was done. Tokyo, except for the damaged industrial section, was safe once more.


	12. Epilogue

Scourge of the Super-saurs ****

Scourge of the Super-saurs

By C. L. Werner

Epilogue:

Murakoshi stirred in the hospital bed. He had no idea how he had gotten here. The last he could remember was being in the warehouse, facing down Mendoza, the Chinese man bursting into the room, guns blazing. Remembering made his head hurt, and the Interpol agent clamped a hand to his forehead to try and ease the pain. He knew that he was still in Costa Rica, but beyond that he was at a loss to explain his present circumstances. Murakoshi scanned the little hospital room, looking for some clue as to what had happened to him. His eyes settled upon a small object resting on his nightstand. At once, Murakoshi became alert and snapped the tiny object up with his hand.

It was a shell casing, the spent shell casing of a high-caliber rifle bullet. Murakoshi studied the shell, noticing at once the Japanese characters carved into the brass casing. The characters spelled 'Shinji Mafune'.

'Nurse,' Murakoshi cried out. Almost at once a nurse was at his side.

'Who left this here?' Murakoshi demanded. The nurse simply smiled awkwardly.

'I don't know sir,' she replied.

'Then, have I had any visitors?' 

'Only the gentleman who brought you here yesterday,' the nurse responded.

'What?' 

'A tall man, Chinese I think. He was very well dressed. He brought you here yesterday, said that you had hit your head in a fishing accident. He came back a little while ago to make sure that you were all right.' The nurse waited for a moment for Murakoshi to ask her anything else. When he did not, the woman returned to her rounds.

Murakoshi stared at the shell casing, remembering the man who had seemingly saved him from Mendoza. But that had not been the real reason for the man's coming. He had also been looking for Dr. Mafune, and for entirely different reasons, it seemed. Murakoshi stared again at the spent shell casing. After what he had seen the man do in the warehouse, the Interpol agent had a feeling that the Chinese man's meeting with Dr. Mafune had been most final. The world would not be hearing of Dr. Shinji Mafune again.

The nurse leaned over the hideous puddle of flesh lying upon the bed. Rescue workers had scoured the remains of the Hachiman Building for weeks looking for survivors. So far, they had only found this man, if survivor this thing on the bed could truly be called. The man's body had been crushed beyond recognition, a goodly portion of the skin cooked away. That there was any spark of life in it at all continued to amaze the doctors. The man had been found in some sort of basement room that had partially collapsed, the room's electrical equipment had been sending a current through the man for days. By all rights, the man should have been dead twenty times over.

The nurse injected the heavy painkiller into what was once an arm. She was nervous, even her professionalism horrified by this unrecognizable human debris. She did not notice the tip of the metal needle snap off in the man's arm. Nor did she notice the shard of metal burrow into the man's flesh, writing beneath the skin like some tiny steel maggot.

She certainly did not recognize the flicker of motion on what had once been a face. She certainly would not have recognized that motion as a smile. Tetsuo Tsukamoto was no longer human. And that did not disturb him at all.

Colonel Sho Kuroki of the JSDF sat on the opposite side of the table from Commander Aso of the UNGCC. The two Japanese officers were polite, if somewhat tense towards one another. The recent affair of the Super-saurs had exemplified the redundant nature of the overlapping duties of the JSDF and UNGCC. Officially, any communication from GARD should have been directed towards Commander Aso and the UNGCC. Instead, the vital information had been sent to Colonel Kuroki. This breech in protocol had caused Commander Aso to loose face. Now, the UNGCC officer was calling in a few favors to restore his prestige, and remove his JSDF rival.

'I think that this plan will help expedite any future emergencies of this nature,' Commander Aso declared, gesturing toward the report he had placed before Colonel Kuroki. The Colonel had already looked through it, but had thus far betrayed no emotion regarding the proposal. 'One of the most embarrassing things about this whole matter has been how everyone was stepping on everyone else's feet. Iterpol, the CIA, GARD, even the UNGCC and JSDF. What we need is an outside body to collect information and distribute it to those who require it.'

'And you have chosen me to head this team,' Colonel Kuroki stated.

'Although it will be an international group, the problem of kaiju attacks is still a principally Japanese one. I think that it is only fitting that a Japanese, one with experience in these things, be in command. And, need I say, I feel that a military mind is best suited to the burden of being leader.' Commander Aso smiled at Colonel Kuroki.

'I know that you have your commission in the JSDF to think of,' Commander Aso began. 'So, if you would rather pass on this position, I am certain that we will be able to find someone better suited to the job.'

'No, sir,' responded Colonel Kuroki. 'You are right. My skills and previous experience could make all of the difference. I will accept transfer from the JSDF to this new command.'

It was not the way he said the words but rather the smile on Kuroki's face that disturbed Commander Aso. He began to wonder if instead of ridding himself of a rival if he was instead commissioning his own replacement.

General Goodhue glared at the two officers standing before him. It had been some years since Goodhue had worn the uniform of a United States Army general. But the powers to be in the Pentagon had called him out of retirement to once again bail the bacon out of the fire. Goodhue turned on the Navy officer first.

'May I ask what in the Hell you were thinking! Withholding valuable information from the Japanese when their capital city is being torn apart by six giant monsters?' General Goodhue rolled his eyes. 'My God, if the UN ever got wind of this, or heaven forbid the Press!' Goodhue paused, as if daring Commander Brandon to say something. The Navy officer was smart enough not to take the bait.

'And you,' General Goodhue snarled, turning on Major MacDonough. 'If you feel that your commanding officer is guilty of dereliction of duty, there are channels to go through. You do not take it upon your own initiative to over-rule his orders! As it happens, you have set the Japanese Defense Forces and the UNGCC squabbling about who should have received your information.'

General Goodhue turned away from the two officers and returned to his desk. 'The Pentagon has put me in command of GARD. As the new commanding officer, I am reassigning both of you. We have just constructed an early warning station on the western most of the Aleutian Islands. Your plane leaves in two hours. I suggest you both find something warm to wear.'

Dr. Otani watched as the military engineers continued to construct the sonic transmitter towers. Soon, there would be a large ring of the structures surrounding the island, only a mile from the shore. It was curious to see so many people outside, but it was quite safe, the scientist and head of the Ogasawara Project realized. Rodan had retreated back into his volcano lair, so weak from the recent battle that the monster had not even tried to emerge for his feedings. Godzilla, Dr. Otani imagined, was probably in the same condition, slumbering somewhere beneath the waters off Ogasawara. Mothra, even if she could be considered a menace, was busy tending her egg, which professor Murai reported would be hatching quite soon.

Then there were the three new denizens of Monsterland. Or inmates, Dr. Otani thought. The sonic transmitter towers were being built to confine the creatures to the island and prevent their escape. The sonic transmitters would produce a frequency that would drive the monsters back onto dry land if they tried to escape, perhaps even stunning them into unconsciousness if they proved too stubborn to retreat from the towers. Of course, the towers would do nothing to keep Rodan or Godzilla on the island, but at least the other monsters would be contained.

Dr. Otani looked at the screen displaying the slumbering beasts. Anguirus, Gorosaurus and the fearsome Baragon, all lying on the sand like great bloated lizards sunning themselves. Dr. Otani rolled his eyes, thinking of the horrible task of maintaining the Project with three more giant beasts to feed. Already he had people trying to find a chemical to curb Baragon's runaway metabolism, an appetite suppressant that would make the fiend at least somewhat more docile.

Dr. Otani smiled and shook his head. Six monsters. Now even he was beginning to think of this place as Monsterland.

The demon glared at the bright, sunlit sky, imagining it instead dark with the smoke of burning buildings, choked with the soot of destruction. He could see the towering skyscrapers of Ginza all about him, defying his vision of doom. Over the years, he had twisted fate, manipulated the minds and wills of men and beasts to crush this sprawling megalopolis, to crush it and cast its ashes into the wind. Still, it stood, defying his efforts, refusing to die. But die it would!

The short man with coke-bottle glasses rounded the corner of the hedge. He sighted the tall figure standing beside the bed of chrysanthemums and raced toward it.

'The Imperial Garden is closed,' the man declared. 'It is Monday, the day the Emperor enjoys the tranquility of his gardens.'

'The Emperor would do well to build his home on land that is not accursed,' a deep, hollow voice resounded from the figure. The man with the eyeglasses stood still staring hard at the figure. It was a tall man, wearing a long green cape.

'Who are you?' the Emperor's aid demanded. The figure turned around. Now the aide could see whom he was talking to and the site caused him to retreat back several steps. The figure was indeed tall, almost six-feet in height. The man wore the uniform of a lieutenant in the Imperial Japanese Army, but a uniform that was over a century out of date. Black boots encased the man's feet; a peaked cap was pulled low over his forehead, hiding his eyes in shadow. White gloves encased the man's hands, standing in stark contrast to the rest of his green officer's uniform. As the aide watched, the eyes beneath the shadow cast by the brim of the cap seemed to burn from the darkness with an eerie yellow flame.

'I am called Kato,' the sorcerer declared, his mouth displaying a set of wicked fangs as he spoke. The demon swirled the cape about his body, wrapping himself in its folds. 'But the people of this city shall know me as DEATH!'

The necromancer's demonic laughter mocked the little man who stood froze in fear against the hedge wall. He watched as the sorcerer rose into the air before shattering into a thousand shards of midnight and scattering upon the suddenly howling wind. Indeed, the aide would have thought the whole event was a hallucination except for one thing. The bed of chrysanthemums the creature had been standing near. The once bright flowers had turned black. 

More, when the Emperor arrived and plucked one of the diseased buds, the stalk wept. Not white sticky sap, but bright red blood.


End file.
